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ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

[II, h Bf; C., Ju'ttE, 1880. Na 1 

"J#E WITCH OF THE 'NEUS 
A. CENTENNIAL STORY IN V fc 1 

CONTINUED. 

GA3sra?o vi . 

SOJN T G OF TR1V M.PH. 

~ from the mountains, glad echo is telling 
Rutherford gathers a gloi a<l, 

ow t; are flocking from every dwelling, 

To enrol their proud "> is gallant command. 

■' *ur Ashe, Moore and Caswell, 
lington, Hotee; our Lacy and Hugh s; 

nd Campbell., 
G-raha ■:"■ ' i k g! traitors their dues. 

l< tne, to tel ■ ■•■ »ur of '-Ires, 

■ -'id, and di liev endured 



. 



s, led on bj ' ' ii luJied fficfers i 



2 ST. MARTS MUSE. 

How boldly they marched, through floods and through fires, 

Nor flagged, till their arms had fair freedom secured, 
How the fife and the drum through the green forests sounded, 

And roused every heart to devotion and love, 
Till their soul-stirring huzzas, by echo rebounded, 

Rose, high and triumphant, the foe-shouts above. 
Nor fail we to sing Carolina's brave daughters, 

Who nobly their husbands and sires cheered on, 
And when overwhelmed by affliction's dread wattes, 

How Faith and bright Hope beamed their fair brows upon. 
Behold them then, when--the dread conflict is over, 

And the fair, flowery fields are ensanguined with gore; 
The dame seeks her husband, the fair maid her lover, 

With "firm steps, though sorrow she dreads is in store. 
Arid kindly each enemy-soldier is cared for, 

Thin, delicate hands every ghastly wound -bind, 
They smooth 'neatfy the agonized head, the soft pillow, 

And sweet consolation afford to the mind. 

They scorned with all foreign array, to adorn them, 

And plied well each spii eel, needle and loom, 

Their rich, tempting brocade and laces — they scorned them, 

And assumed their own homespun, with pride, in their room. 
Ey'ry garment of soft texture, nobly devoting 

To soothe, of the soldier, each feverish wound. 

youthful and blooming, to aged and doting, 

Not a woman e'er flinched, the wide county around. 



bravery can do ; when the cause is a just one The victorious army consisted 
of about four hundred and fifty men, and the marauder commanded, in addi- 
tion, to his own hand, fifteen hundred British Regulars. It was one of the 
light battles of the Revolution. Ramsay, in his History of Tennessee, 
General Brevard, an officer under Napoleon, and afterwards in the 
Uwiad States Engineer Service, on examining the battle-ground at King's 
Mountain, said — "The Americ .s, by their victory in that engagement erected 
a monument to perpetuate the b.-ave men who had fallen there ; and the shape 
of the hill itself, would bear eternal testimony to the military genius and skill 
of Colonel Ferguson, in selecting a position so well adapted for defence. No- 
other plan of assault but that pursued by the mountain men could have suc- 
ceeded against them. 



> 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 3 

And their deep, fervent prayers, that to heaven ascended, 
As the mist from the soil — in enlivening dew, 

As sure the rich blessing of freedom descended 
To crown Carolina's fair daughters and true, 
And echo repeats our proud triumphant — true. 

Dare any proclaim that our cause was unholy? 

Let them turn to our glorious history aud read 
How our armies were twice, by Omnipotence solely, 

Like His chosen of old, from their enemies freed. 
At the Ford of Catawba see the patriot waters, 

How gently they flow, while our heroes pass through, 
As their impious invaders approach, the proud waters 

High in defiance their foaming wave threw. 
And then — as on calmly flowed Yadkin's blue wave, 

Another brave column with safety passed o'er, 
While the foemen advancing, though gallant $nd brave, 

The swift-swelling waters drove back as before.* 

And now the war-trump o'er our borders has sounded, 

And every brave heart to its glad echo bounded. 

From the rock-crested mountains, and rich, fertile valleys 

That smile in the sunbeams, their grandeur between; 
From the green forest-hills every brave hunter rallies, 

And the sword flashes fiercely where ploughshares have been. 
Up springs the stout mountaineers — Rutherford's banners 

Are flaunting, the rocky-crown'd Pilot above, 
While far down the East, 'mong the flow'ry savannahs, 

Are gathering our armies from streamlet and grove. 
To each veteran's call every leader responded, 

And swiftly their comrades with ardor led on, 
In fast growing numbers, as rapidly banded, 

They from home's sweet endearments were ceaselessly drawn. f 



*General Morgan's army crossed the Catawba at evening, and a heavy rain 
falling, the river was swollen so that the British commander, Cornwallis, could 
not follow. In a short time after. General Greene's army, in crossing the Yad- 
kin, was preserved in the same providential way. 
l|| f Facts of history again. 



4 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

C-AJS"TO VII. 

LOVE AND DEVOTION. 

'Tis evening — and zephyrs with gentle wing fan 

The delicate leaves on the white jasmine bower 
Of fair, gentle Annie — -just where the Trent ran, 

Close under the bank, whose trees spread and tower 
In grand and magnificent shade; and whose boughs 

Dip gracefully down in the rippling stream, 
And taste of its coolness, while gently it flows; 
Sweet music that lulls the wood-nymphs to repose, 

And soothes every pang in their fancy-wrought dream. 
Just on the decline of the bank, where entwined 

The white jasmine bower, under whose fragrant shade 
Fair Annie, at even, oft musing reclined, 

And watched the bright stars; (for she ne'er was afraid, 
Fair innocence dreams not of base, lurking foe, 

In confidence rests, midst the gloomiest night,) 
Unharmiug, she fears not that harm should e'er grow 

Out of darkness, of shade, her calm mind to affright. 

On a soft, grassy mound, her green bower within, 

Sat Annie, with spirit calm, peaceful and pure. ' 
Her. thoughts were of him who so recent bad been 

In that loved retreat — of whose love she was sure. 
He had left her in grief; for he knew not what fate 

Might befall him on battle-field, bloody and grim, 
What sorrow might darken, what fortune elate 

The soul of the soldier, unknown yet to him. 
His prayer was a patriot's ardent desire 

That his country might triumph o'er traitor and foe; 
His all was his country's ! His soul was on fire 

To right all her wrongs, and lay tyranny low. 
But yet to his loved one, how constant, how true, 

Was this young soldier-brave, 'mid battle and strife, 
As the prostrate he spares — when the suppliants sue, 

He thinks of his Annie, and grants them their life. 



ST. MARY'S* MUSE. 

Alone sat fair Annie, her thoughts far away, 

The hooting owl heeds not, nor gay mocking-bird ; 
Her eyes on the moon-beams are resting, that play 

On the sparkling Trent. A whisper is heard ! 
She starts with surprise! The next moment in view 

Appeared a lank form ; a countenance wan 
Frowned gloomily down on the maid, as it drew 

Near and still nearer, and thus, sad, began : 
"O! lady, a friend is beside thee; and one 

Who would die to redeem thee from sorrow and pain ! 
'Tis old wandering Ula, who loves every bone 

In thy precious form; would gladly see slain 
Every Red-coat that blights this fair land with his tread, 

Before one dear hair of thy head he profane ; 
Beware then, bright angel, keep close to thy sire, 

Nor mount the fleet palfrey, for pleasure or chase ; 
Thy pathway is watched — the fierce man's desire 

Is bent to possess thee. Hence ! ayray from this place ! 
Mark well what I say — dare not, for wor]^s, ride, 

E'en at wish of the dearest to thy gentle heart. 
Fierce Ferguson's men in the deep forest hide, 

And at thy approach will ruthlessly start 
And seize thee, and bind thee, and bear thee away 

From all that is precious and dear to thy heart. 
Fly hence to thy father! keep close! not a day 

Art thou safe, till the foe from our land shall depart." 
She vanished, and Annie her first fear had known — 

She fled, as the fawn from the hunter's shrill blast, 
No longer she rambled the green-wood alone, 

Every pathway was watched, every entrance made fast; 
For dear to the hearts of her parents was she, 
The lovely, the pure and the blithesome Annie. 



6 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

CANTO VIII. 
THE BROTHER'S LOVE. 

Young Bryan, now home from the battle returning 

To gladden the hearts that there wait for his smile, 
Tho' the love of his country in brighter flame burning, 

In love for his kindred, subsides for awhile. 
The father's proud smile calls up visions of daring, 

The mother's, a purer, a holier view, 
While the sweet, gentle sister's, a rapture declaring, 

Shone tranquil as heaven's ethereal blue. 
"Come, ride we," (entreated the loved of her childhood,) 

" Come, ride we, sweet sister," urged he with a smile, 
" Come, mount thy white palfrey, and let's to the wild-wood, 

" That flowers and birds may my spirit beguile. 
" Where the peerless magnolia her luscious breath throws 
" O'er the soft, dewy coming of eve's gentle close, 
" And greets with delight our admiring eyes, 
"As she proudly expands her bright blooms to the skies. 
"Where the rich, golden jasmines are now blooming brightly, 

"And 'mid the wild orange, pure bridal- wreaths twine; 
"Inhale we their exquisite fragrance, while lightly 

"The zephyrs are fanning the sweet eglantine. 
'^0 ! then let us haste, ere the bright, radiant glory 

"Of twilight shall fade, and our fairy woods pale, 
" While slowly w« ride thou shalt list to the story, 

"How patriots triumph, and base traitors fail." 
Fair Annie 'grew pale, and her silent lips trembled, 

She longed with her brother's fond wish to comply, 
Reluctant her heart, for she ne'er had dissembled, 

To tell of her fears, or their terrors defy. 
"Say, tell me, sweet sister," the youth urged again, 

" Does it fear thee to ride, my bright goddess of chase ? 
" No gallant Diana e'er guided the rein, 

"Or sat her swift jennet with comelier grace. 



ST. MARY'S JlfUSE. 

" Then why dost thou tremble, and why fades thy brow ? 

" Which was radiant with beauty and spirit ere now." 

"It grieves me, fond orother, to. sadden thy heart," 

(The maiden replied) " and my grief to impart 

"Is grief; but stern duty demands you should know 

" That danger awaits me wherever I go." 

And now gentle Annie her danger unfolds, 

And naught of her sorrowing story withholds ; 

Her^gallant young brother essays to dispel 

Her fears, and o'er them soon triumphed so well, 

That fair Annie donned her plumed bonnet with speed, 

And the next moment mounted her bonny white steed. 

Then away through the gay, fragrant forests they bounded, 

With spirits as buoyant as May-morning air. 
Their light, laughing voices?, glad echo resounded, 

And the maiden forgot her long, saddening fear. 
The birds carolled gaily amid the green bowers, 

The leaves quivered gently, as through them the wind 
Pass'd softly and sdow, like the lingering hours 

That wait for the lover, devoted and kind. 
On, swiftly they fly, of ill never dreaming, 

The twilight-lit foliage, admiring, they viewed, 
The bright evening star through the foliage was gleaming, 

From where the proud light of the sun was subdued. 
Behold ! as their coursers an angle quick rounded, 

Before them a mystic form rose to their view. 
Affrighted, the white palfrey instantly bounded, 

And on the green blanket his fair mistress threw. 
And now, to her side the wan spectre advances, 

Her bony hands lifts up in agonized prayer, 
Her dark, gleaming eyes on the fallen one glances, 

And shrieks of remorse fill the calm evening air: 
But the maiden, uninjured, the gipsey's heart cheers 

As she mounts on her steed with a light bounding heart ; 
But still some dread message the fair maiden fears, 

And longs, from the weird-woman, quick to depart. 



8 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

But Ula, the rein of her palfrey detained, 

And raising her large eyes in sorrow, began : — 
"O! Lady, the bad man with b]oody deed's stained, 

"Still haunts these green woods, and will seize if he can, 
" Thy beauteous form, and will tear thee from all 

"That love thee; and grief will thy young heart befall. 
"O ! list to old Ula — expose not thy life ! 
" This moment fierce Ferguson's fury is rife, 
"And near thee he waits! Of the next ride beware! 
"For he surely will hear thee — oh! who can tell where? 
She vanished, and Annie with terror was filled, 
But soon her brave brother her gentle heart stilled, 
At old Ula he scoffed, and he laughed at her fears, 
And fair Annie blushed at her maidenly fears. 
And so, to assure her fond brother, agreed 
At morn, in the chase, to rein fearless her steed. 
Ah ! woe ! for the sorrow his proud heart shall know ! 
And crushed be her parents with anguish and woe. 



CANTO IX. . 

And now of his comrades, a brave, youthful band, 

Gallant Daves, with a spirit of buoyancy, leads ; 
Every heart nerved with daring, with strength every hand, 

Every lip vows to recompense traitorous deeds. 
Every steed, as he sniffs the fierce wind of the mountain, 

Erects his proud head, and its rigor defies ; 
Like his rider, his thirst has been quenched at the fountain, 

Distilled from the field where foul cowardice dies. 
Brave Rutherford waits,* and our youthful commander, 

With eagerness rides, e'er the army depart ; 
No passing word heeds, at no sound does he ponder, 

Intent on the enterprise dear to his heart. 



*Daves, at the head of eighty men, was only waiting to join General 
Rutherford, who commanded an army in Georgia and Florida, and was recruit- 
ing in Western North Carolina. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

On, and still on, the brave column advances, 

Amid the red autumn-leaves, urging their steeds 
On the far distant mountains-, their daring eye glances 

Where Rutherford now, his brave patriots leads. 
On the instant, a forest of muskets before them 

Arise, and encompass the brave little band ; 
It grieves me to sing the sad requiem o'er them, 

These true hearts that fell by fierce Ferguson's hand, 
Exulting, the ruffian, the young leader severs, 

And shields from the strokes of his murderous crew. 
His heart, in accord with his hands base endeavors, 

Foul revenge on the fortunate lover pursue. 
To die, the proud death of the brave man, was fate 

Too mild for the rival of fierce Ferguson. 
In long, lingering tortures, he doomed him to wait, 

With anguish, till death his crushed soul seized upon. 
For like fate, with his comrades, the youth sued in vain, 

His captor denied him, such glory to share. 
In his dark mountain-prison,* did the ruffian enchain, 

The envied betrothed one, of Annie the fair, 
Forlorn, and unheeded, the young soldier pined, 

In a damp rocky cave, fast, with lock and with bar. 
Around it, moaned sadly, the chill mountain wind, 

And the howl of the wolf never died on his ear. 
At morn, and at even, his meagre repast, 

By invisible hands, was laid at his feet, 
Not a gleam from the bright heavens ever was cast 

On his brow, since he bowed in that dire defeat. 
Away, far away, with ensanguined desire, 

Ever burning, within his bad breast uncontrolled, 
Sped the demon marauder, with sword and with fire, 

Spreading death and dismay, like the wolf in the fold. 



*Ferguson had fortified and concealed his forces in the caves of King's 
Mountain. 



10 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

O'er the grief of his victim, he gloated with joy, 
And oft to his fastness, at midnight repaired, 

To taunt and upbraid; though he dared not destroy 
The brave youth, who naught, but foul infamy feared. 

[to be continued.] 



NATURE. 



" Nature is a system of laws established by the Creator, which 
insures the existence of things and the succession of beings. 
Nature is not a thing, for that thing would be all ; it is not a 
being, for that being would be God." 

"Nature is the visible throne of the Divine power; and he 
who contemplates it elevates himself by degrees to the invisible 
throne of the Almighty." 

So Buffon speaks; and we cannot look at the smallest grow- 
ing thing without recognizing the truth of his powerful words. 

Very few of us read deeply in this grand, this glorious book 
which is never shut; and in whose every word volumes are con- 
densed. 

Nature is now clothed in her most beautiful robes. Spring 
is upon us with all its delights. We cannot look at garden, 
field, or forest without having our eyes charmed with buds and 
blossoms of richest hues, over which the sun is shedding his 
golden rays and lighting hill and valley into brilliancy. If a 
Chaucer or a Burns were here to-day, he would pour forth such 
a song as never poet sang before. 

We have waited long for the tears and smiles of Spring to 
fall gently and lovingly upon the cold earth, charming her into 
new glory. But now the modest daisy and the blue-eyed violet 
raise their lovely heads and whisper " Spring has come." The 
birds as they fly hither and thither to gather twigs to build their 
nests, trill forth their mellow notes and re-echo "Spring has 
come." 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 11 

Come all ye lovers of Nature, and let us peer into some of her 
secrets. As I look up now at the king of trees, the brave and 
noBle oak, which only a short time since was stripped of his 
scarlet and golden robes, I see him decked with delicate tassels 
and tender leaves. Be not too proud, O oak ! for even now thy 
graceful tassels are dropping ; and ere long thy stately boughs 
will be disrobed of their beauty, and those same quivering leaves 
will fall to cover thy roots, even as those of last Spring are now 
lying sear and dead. 

Who can stand alone in a forest without being moved by a 
profound emotion? Is it fear or awe? Perhaps both. And 
superstition therefore acquires her greatest power, as imagination 
takes command of our thoughts. I fancy I see a wood-sprite, 
or some hideous hobgoblin piercing me with sharp glances. I 
shudder, fearing that, by magic, he will change me into one of 
his own species. It is with difficulty I convince myself that 
there are no such things in nature. 

But here are no horrors as in a tropical forest. No lion's roar 
is heard in the distance. No tiger glares with fierce eyes through 
the thickets. No serpents glitter among the graceful creepers 
and hanging ferns which twine themselves fondly around the 
stately trees. But merry lizards play up and down the trunks; 
and as the sun darts his rays on their lithe forms, hues the most 
varied and brilliant strike and charm the eye. Gorgeous butter- 
flies flit to and fro, sipping the sweets the bees have left behind. 
As evening approaches, myriads of fire-flies rise from their hid- 
ing-places, lightening the dark nooks and dells of the forest. 
Here a feeling of perfect rest comes over one's soul ; no trouble 
nor disgrace penetrates these dark shades, no sense of weariness 
or loneliness; here happiness reigns. I feel that I am in the ten- 
der, sheltering arms of the Almighty, and take no more thought 
for the future than the little cricket which is chirping at my 
feet. 

Out in the fields the full heads of grain are nodding. The 
little buttercups lift their smiling faces, whispering universal 
love. The daisies stray wilfully in the' richest fields, and the 



12 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

yellow-bird, the red-bird and the jay perch on the fences. How 
good it is that nature is the estate of all creatures! The sun 
belongs to one no more than to another ; yet it is only the soHils 
of the child and the poet that fully receive the truths he brings 
to view. But it is the poet who lives with nature and penetrates 
furthest into her secrets, unlocks door after door of her mys- 
teries, and sings, as he goes, the manifold works of God. 



BLIND. 



A TALE — TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER V. 

The next morning her friends noticed with astonishment the 
change which had come over her. The pastor's wife could 
account for it in no way, but by the supposition that Marlina 
had heard their conversation through the wall. "So much the 
better," said the pastor, " I need say nothing more to her." It 
was touching to see with what sweetness the girl greeted Clement 
and his parents. She wished for nothing but to submit to them. 
Whatever was done for her she received humbly, as if she did 
not deserve it. Her entire nature seemed changed and softened 
as if she were continually apologizing for something. Now she 
accepted Clement's arm when they walked out together. But she 
often begged to be allowed to rest awhile. .Not that she was 
tired, but she wished the boy to have the liberty to wander where- 
ever his fancy directed him. Now, too, she laughed when he 
came back to her and related all he had seen. Her old jealousy 
was gone, since she no longer deplored her misfortune, but found 
in his happiness, her own. 

So the end of their journey found her strengthened and puri- 
fied. And strength had come when most she needed it. When 
she reached home, she found her mother suffering from a severe 
illness, which in a few days ended her life. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 13 

When the first weeks of mourning passed, her sadly changed 
life demanded of her, duties which a short time before she would 
have found it impossible to perform. She was busied early and 
late with household cares. In spite of her infirmity she knew 
what was going on in all parts of the little house, and though she 
could seldom attend to the duties personally, she was particular 
in the arrangement and superintendence of everything, so that 
nothing might be wanting to the comfort of her heart-broken 
father. A wonderful serenity possessed her. When at first the 
servants required reproof a quiet word from her sufficed : or if 
they made some careless blunder or grumbled over their work, 
one earnest look from those large, blind eyes, was enough to sub- 
due the most rebellious. 

Marlina had felt that for her father's sake she must be cheer- 
ful, adapt herself to circumstances and be his happiness ; and 
since then the hours in which she mourned over her separation 
from Clement, came at rare intervals. And when he was obliged 
to leave home and return to school, she was able to bid him fare- 
well even more calmly than the rest. It is here for a week after 
his departure she went about like one in a dream ; feeling as if 
the best half of her had been taken away. But soon she re- 
gained her cheerfulness, sang songs to her father and joked with 
him until she won a smile from the sorrowful old man. When- 
ever the pastor's wife brought over letters from the city and read 
to her news and greetings from Clement, her heart beat more 
quickly, and she lay awake longer than usual that night. But 
the next morning would find her as serene as ever. 

In the vacation Clement came back to his parents, and his 
first visit was to the clerk's house. Marlina recognized his step 
in the distance, but sat still and listened until he should ask for 
her. She restlessly smoothed with her little hand her hair, which 
always hung in a plait on her slender neck ; and then she rose 
from her work. By the time Clement had reached the door 
every trace of emotion had vanished from her face. She gave 
him her hand calmly and begged him to sit down and tell her 
all about himself. So interested did she become in his conversa- 



14 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

tion that he did not mark the lapse of time, while his mother, 
eager for his company, came in search of him. 

He seldom passed the whole of his vacation in the village, but 
wandered over the mountains, to which he seemed fettered by 
his growing passion for nature. 

In this quiet way the years passed on. The old people became 
slowly feeble, and the young men grew up quickly. Once Clem- 
ent came at Easter to see Marlina ; and as she rose from her 
spinning wheel, he was astonished to see how much she had 
grown since he last saw her in the autumn. "You are a young 
woman," he said, " nor am I any longer a child ; only feel how 
my beard has grown during this winter of hard study." Mar- 
lina blushed slightly as he seized her hand and guided it to his 
chin, upon which a slight hint of down might be felt. He had 
many more things to tell her than in the last vacation. The 
teacher with whom he lived had a daughter, and this daughter 
had several friends of her own sex. These girls Clement must 
describe with the greatest exactness. " I do not think much of 
girls; they are vain and silly, and talk entirely too much. 
There is one named Cecilia whom I dislike least, because she 
does not talk much and is not forever putting on airs to make 
herself pretty. But what interest do I take in any of them? 
One evening, a short while ago, as I entered my room, I found 
a bunch of flowers on the table. I let them lie there ; did not 
even put them in water, though I felt sorry for the poor flowers, 
for the thing vexed me. Then at times the girls keep up such 
a giggling and whispering, that I will not exchange a word with 
them out of sheer contempt. They would much oblige me by 
letting me alone ; certainly I have no time for their foolishness." 

Marlina did not lose one of these words, but spun out of them 
an endless web of wondrous thoughts. She would have run con- 
siderable risk of injuring herself by the indulgence of vain 
dreams, had not well-grounded fears and deep sorrow restrained 
her. Her father, who for sometime had performed his duties 
with difficulty, was disabled by an attack of apoplexy. In this 
helpless condition he lay for nearly a year, when a second attack 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 15 

shortened his sufferings. During this weary time his daughter 
.was scarcely a moment absent from his side. When Clement 
came home in vacation she granted him no further conversation 
than a quarter of an hour, spent in the sick-room. 

She ever became more self-reliant, more self-sacrificing. She 
complained to no one, and would have needed nothing if her 
blindness had allowed her to do everything for herself. Yet her 
very affliction made her attentive to duties which many with the 
blessings of sight neglect. She kept in perfect order everything 
of which she had the management. Nor could anything be neat 
enough to suit her, so fearful was she, that, not being able to see, 
some dust still escaped her. 

Tears rose to Clement's eyes as he saw her occupied in bathing 
her poor father's face and combing his thin locks. She had grown 
pale in the hot atmosphere of the sick-room • but the brown eyes 
had only gained a deeper lustre, and she was ever borne higher 
above all ignoble work. 

The old man died ; his successor took the little house, and 
Marlina found a home and warm welcome at the parsonage. 
Clement had, in the meantime, entered a distant University, and 
did not, as formerly, visit his parents twice every year. The news 
of Marlina's grief and of her having become an inmate of his 
father's house, came to him through home letters, which were 
seldom received, and which he answered irregularly. From time 
to time came a note to Marlina, in which he railed unmercifully 
against her sex, and addressed her so entirely as if she' were a 
child, that the good mother shook her head and was silent on 
that subject before the father. Marlina was eager to have 
the strange notes read to her, but then she asked for them and 
kept them carefully. When her father died she received a short, 
abrupt letter, which contained no word of comfort or pity, only 
earnest requests that she would spare her health, remain calm, 
and let him know exactly how she was situated. This letter, 
which came during the winter, was the last Marlina had received. 
At Easter they expected a visit from the young man; but he did 



16 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

not come, writing that he had the undreamed of opportunity of 
accompanying a learned botanist upon a pedestrian tour. The. 
father was satisfied, and Marlina succeeded finally in soothing the 
impatient mother. 

[to be continued.] 



A DAY IN CLOUD-LAND. 



Among the many attractions to be found in the world of 
nature, there is nothing more various in beauty or of deeper inter- 
est than the ever-changing clouds. Day by day we watch them, 
never growing tired of their delicate tints and undulating 
motions. As children, we chased their shadows over the grass, 
or ran races with them through the fields. In early youth we 
watched them rise and sink over the mountain-tops, imagining 
strange figures in their shifting forms, which we named as fancy 
dictated. At night we loved to watch the hurrying clouds hide 
and pass from the moon; and we were slow to believe that it was 
them and not the calm queen that flew so fast through the sky. 
Not less entrancing are they as we grow older. The touches of 
color they reflect from the sun are unequalled even by earth's 
fairest burden, the summer flowers. The pink morning-clouds; 
the fleecy ones that cool the midday glare; the soft masses that, 
after the morning play, rest sleepily on the hills; the banks of 
purple and gold that attend the setting sun — all are beautiful 
tokens of an Omnipresent Benevolence, messengers of peace which 
daily hover to guard and bless God's world. 

Nowhere is the eye greeted by clouds of such exquisite purity 
and such delicate coloring as on a mountain-top during a sum- 
mer sunrise. We are alone on a rock in the midst of a milk- 
white sea. Tiny islands appear and vanish; and yonder juts 
out a steep boulder, over which great breakers dash and fall 
silently in this ghostly sea. Now to our right, four towering 
peaks rise like sentinels around a phantom lake. Overhead the 






ST. MARY'S MUSE. 17 

stars are shining in the deep blue sky, but no thought of them 
crosses our minds as we gaze into the depths. The scene is too 
grand, too overwhelming in its loneliness to, allow us to speak; 
or if a word escapes us, how it is snatched from our lips and dies 
suddenly, as if nature would forbid any sound to disturb the 
awful quiet. 

But look ! the eastern sky is hardly brightened, yet how dis- 
turbed the sea below ! It is rising bodily. But it parts on 
either side our eyrie. Soft, the billowy clouds sweep upward, 
wrapping us for a moment in a mantle of moisture. Look how 
quietly they come, turning and changing constantly, and there, 
that cloud just passing ! What a beautiful pink light pervades 
it. Unlike those of sunset, over whose edges the colors play, 
this is penetrated with a rare tint that shames the fairest pearl. 
Now turn eastward and see that faint auroral light on the farther 
edge of the white expanse ; and, between us and it, watch how 
the clouds in their mysterious turnings reflect the light and show 
the most delicate rainbow hues. 

But the sun must have risen, although we cannot see him, for 
the world has returned to its original whiteness; and hardly 
have we been warned of his coming, when with one bound he 
hangs high over the eastern slopes. The clouds rise faster, and 
we begin to recognize familiar places. How weird and strange 
are the mountains partly hidden in the heavy mist. There is a 
hill we have often climbed ; here is a clearing on the mountain- 
side ; and now we catch a glimpse of the valley below." Now 
the last film of midst is gone ; and how unbounded is the view ! 
No trace remains of the recent sea save where strips of fog en- 
velope the mountain streams. At our feet, dotted here and there 
among the hills, are fields filled with the promise of an abun- 
dant harvest ; far, far away the hills rise one behind another, and 
clouds, piled high, cheat us into the belief in more and more 
distant ranges; while others throw cool flickering shadows over 
the earth. It is difficult to tell which cloud makes the shadow. 
They seem endued with life as they run races up the mountain- 
sides, now shading the highest peaks, now hurrying down to 



18 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

peep into narrow dells where their whiteness brings out in bold 
relief the shaded foliage — the solemn darkness of the spruce and 
the vivid green of the poplar and the birch. 

Through the long day a fleecy vail of clouds has hung over the 
earth. As the afternoon wears on, they gather in heavy groups. 
In thick ranks of grey and white, they obscure for minutes to- 
gether the light of the sun. As they pass over the fields, we 
almost fancy it is their heavy shadows that bend the standing 
grain. Their hurrying forms soon fill the sky, and the after- 
noon stillness is suddenly broken by mutterings of distant thun- 
der. Look at yon towering peak, whose summit is lost in threat- 
ening clouds ! Over the distant hills the lightning plays fitfully. 
It comes nearer, and the jagged streaks that leap from cloud to 
cloud or circle the tops of the stern old mountains herald hollow 
peals of thunder. The clouds hang in awful grandeur till, all 
in a moment, the rain rushes down in such blinding sheets that 
it seems as if it must wash away the very mountains. The 
clouds move heavily across the sky, now pelting the valley in 
their mad fury, now spending all their force on some beetling 
cliff. Watch the black mass entering yon narrow gorge! as it 
swiftly retreats, the columns of rain seem marching with meas- 
ured strides along the earth. 

The thunder grows fainter, the lightning-flashes are less vivid, 
the rain falls more softly, and the sun is forcing his beams 
through an opening in the west. What a lovely rainbow rests 
on the hills to eastward, arching up into the pure blue sky ! 
The light of the sun is welcomed by soft whispers among the 
glistening leaves and by the glad song of birds; and his rays are 
reflected from many a rocky ledge over which the water is still 
pouring. As the evening shadows lengthen, and the sun nears 
the western hills, see how the clouds follow as if dreading his 
setting ! In what confusion are they heaped together ; yet who 
could suggest a grander grouping ? The darkest ones have dis- 
appeared with the storm, but those that are left render more bril- 
liant the glow that lights their edges. High over the mountain- 
tops are white clouds touched with flame ; lower down the golden 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 19 

light prevails. Look at those rich rays slanting through that 
narrow pass, glorifying the whole valley, and then follow them 
upward as they open a shining path far beyond the sky itself. 
The west is too dazzling for us to look at long; and we turn 
again to see that the light has left the valley and is softly climb- 
ing upward, now resting on the tree-tops, now crowning the lower 
hills; and as it plays over tb<?: eastern mountains the sun sinks 
behind .the western range. What a rich purple glow lights the 
low clouds of the east, and how' one after another takes it up as 
it follows with fleeter steps the course the sun has taken through 
the day. The scattered white clouds that are left scarcely hide 
the timid stars that begin to appear. Soon the moon shows above 
the tree-tops, and climbs the shining' bars stretched across the*** 
sky. Flying cloudlets pass and repass her. Now the last one 
has disappeared, leaving undimmed the broad expanse of heaven. 



" THE PRISONERS OF THE CAUCASUS." 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF X. DE MAISTRE. 



CONTINUED. 



In order to obtain the confidence of his hosts, Ivan put him- 
self on the footing of a buffoon, devising each day some new 
pleasantry for their entertainment. Ibrahim liked above all to 
see him dance the cosaque. When one of the villagers paid them 
a visit, they took off Ivan's fetters and made him dance, which 
he always did with a good grace, each time adding some new and 
ridiculous step. He had procured by this behavior, the liberty 
of walking over the village, where he was usually followed by a 
troop of children attracted by his buffooneries. As he under- 
stood the language of Tartary, he very soon learned that of this 
country, which is a very similar dialect. 

The Major was often forced to play upon the guitar and to 
sing Russian songs with his denchik, for the amusement of this 



20 ST. MARTS MUSE. 

barbarous society. At first, they removed the irons which bound 
his right hand, when they required of him this civility ; but the 
woman having perceived that he sometimes played in spite of his 
irons for his own pleasure, would no longer accord him this favor; 
and the unhappy musician repented more than once of having 
exhibited his talent. Then he did not know that his guitar would 
one day be the means of procuring his freedom. 

In order to obtain this desired liberty, the two prisoners formed 
a thousand projects, all difficult of execution. At first, for the 
greater security, the men of the village came by turns each night 
to assist Ibrahim in his watch. Insensibly, they relaxed their 
precautions. Frequently the sentinel failed to come, the woman 
t and the child slept in an adjoining chamber, and old Ibrahim 
remained alone with the prisoners; but he was very careful to 
keep about him the key of the fetters, and waked at the slightest 
noise. Each day the Major was treated with more severity. As 
no reply to his letters was received, the Tchetchenges often came 
to his prison with insults and threats of more cruel treatment. 
His jailers deprived him of food, and he one day had the unhap- 
piness to see them beat without mercy the little Mamet, because 
he had brought him some fruit. 

A very remarkable circumstance in so painful a situation as 
Kascambo's, was the great confidence which his persecutors placed 
in him, and the esteem with which he inspired them. While 
these barbarians forced him to suffer continual ill-treatment, 
they often came to seek his advice, and made him the arbiter of 
their quarrels with each other. Among the disputes of which he 
was made the judge, the following deserves to be mentioned, 
on account of its singularity: One of the men had confided 
five rubles to a comrade, who was setting out for a neighboring 
valley, charging him to deliver them to a certain person. 
The messenger's horse dying on the road, he persuaded himself 
that he had the right to keep the rubles as indemnity for the 
loss he had sustained. This reasoning, worthy of a Cau- 
casian, was not relished by the owner of the money. On the 
return of the traveler, there was a great uproar in the village. 



■ST. MARY'S MUSE. 21 

The two men collected their parents and friends around them ; 
and the quarrel might have become sanguinary, if the elders of 
the horde, after having vainly tried to appease them, had not 
promised to submit their cause to the decision of the prisoner. 
The entire population rushed in a tumult to his house, in order 
to learn more quickly the issue of this most ridiculous trial. 
Kascainbo was hurried from his prison to the platform which 
served as the roof of the house. 

The greater number of the habitations in the valley of the 
Caucasus are partly dug in the earth and rise above the soil only 
three or four feet; the roof is horizontal, and formed of a layer 
of beaten clay. The inhabitants, especially the women, come to 
repose on these terraces after sunset, and often pass the night 
there in fine weather. Kascambo's appearance on the roof pro- 
duced a profound silence.. One would doubtless have seen with 
astonishment, at this singular tribunal, furious pleaders, armed 
with pistols and poniards, submit their cause to a judge in fetters 
and half dead with hunger and misery, who, however, judged " en 
dernier ressort," and whose decisions were always respected. 

Having despaired of making the accused party hear reason, 
the Major commanded him to approach, and in order to amuse 
the crowd, and to engage them on the side of justice, he asked 
him the following question: "If, instead of giving you five rubles 
to carry his creditor, your comrade had only charged you to give 
him " JSonjour," would not your horse be dead, all the same?" 
"Perhaps," replied the defendant. "And, in that case," added 
the judge, "what would you have gained by keeping the mes- 
sage? Would you not have been forced to take it in payment, 
and to be contented with that? • Consequently, I order that you 
return the money, and that your comrade gives you the saluta- 
tion." 

When this sentence was pronounced to the spectators, peals of 
laughter announced the wisdom of the new Solomon. The con- 
demned man, after having disputed some time, was obliged to 
yield, and said, looking at the money : " I knew before that I 
would lose it if that dog of a Christian meddled in the matter." 



22 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

This singular confidence showed the idea with which these peo- 
ple have of the superiority of the Europeans, and the innate 
sense of justice which exists among men the most ferocious. 

Kascambo had written three letters since his imprisonment, 
without receiving any reply. A year had passed. The unhappy 
prisoner, needing clothing and all the conveniences of life, saw 
his health failing, and abandoned himself to despair. Ivan, too, 
had been sick for some time. The stern Ibrahim, to the Major's 
great surprise, had freed this young man from his chains during 
his illness, and still left him at liberty. 

Kascambo one day questioned Ivan on this subject. "Master," 
said he, "For a long time I have wished to consult you on a 
project which has entered my brain. I believe that I would do 
well to become a Mahomedan." 

" You are mad, surely ! " 

"No, I am not mad. This is the only way that I can be use- 
ful to you. The Turkish priest told me that when I became a 
Mahomedan, they would no longer keep me in fetters. Then I 
would be able to serve you; to procure you, at least, good food, 
and some clothing. After all, who knows? When I am free 
* * the God of the Russians is great ! We will see" * * 

"But God himself will abandon you, unhappy man, if you 
deny him." Kascambo, while scolding his servant, took care not 
to laugh at his singular project; but when he did seriously for- 
bid it, "Master," said Ivan, "I can no longer obey you; and 
wish in vain to conceal it from you ; it is already done ; I have 
been a Mahomedan since that day when you believed me sick, 
and they took off my chains. I call myself Houssein now. 
What harm is it? Can I not become a Christian again when I 
wish, and when you are free? See! already I no longer w r ear 
any chains; I can break yours on the first favorable occasion, 
and I have a strong hope that one will present itself." 

Indeed, the Tchetchenges kept their word. Ivan enjoyed from 
that time the greatest liberty. But this same liberty was des- 
tined to prove disastrous to him. The principal actors in the 
expedition against Kascambo very soon feared that the new 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 23 

Mussulman would desert them. His long sojourn among them 
and his familiarity with their language enabled him to know them 
all by name, and to give a description of each one to the Russian 
authorities, if he should return to the army, which would have 
exposed them personally to the vengeance of their enemies. 
They highly disapproved the misplaced zeal of the priest. 

On the other hand, the good Mussulmen, who had favored 
Ivan's conversion, remarked that when he went to pray on the 
house-top, as was customary, and as the priest had expressly en- 
joined upon him, in order to conciliate the good will of the 
public, he often made, from habit, and from inadvertance the 
sign of the cross in the midst of his prostrations towards Mecca, 
sometimes even turning his back on the holy city. This caused 
them to suspect the sincerity of his conversion. Some months 
after his pretended apostacy, he perceived that a great change 
had taken place in his relations with the inhabitants, and could 
not mistake the manifest signs of their ill-will. He was vainly 
seeking the cause of it when some young men with whom he had 
been particularly associated, proposed to accompany them on an 
expedition which they wished to undertake. Their project was 
to cross the Tereck, in order to plunder some merchants who 
were returning to Mosdok. Ivan immediately accepted their 
proposition. 

He had desired for a long time to procure some arms ; and 
they promised him a part of the booty. He thought that in 
seeing him return to his master, those who suspected him of 
wishing to desert, would no longer have the same reason to mis- 
trust him. However, the Major being greatly oppossed to this 
project, he pretended to give it up, when one morning Kascambo, 
on awaking, saw the mat on which Ivan slept rolled against the 
wall : he had set out during the night. His companions were 
to cross the Tereck the following night, and to make the attack 
upon the merchants, whose route they learned from their scouts. 
This pretended confidence of the Tchetchenges should have 
rendered Ivan somewhat suspicious. It was not natural that 
men so crafty, and so distrustful should allow a Russian, their 



24 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

prisoner to join an expedition directed against his compatriots. 
We learn, indeed, from subsequent events, that they only invited 
him with the intention of affecting his assassination. His posi- 
tion as a new convert obliging them to use circumspection, they 
proposed to keep watch over him during the journey, and after- 
wards to kill him at the moment of the attack, letting it be be- 
lieved that he had perished during the combat. Only a few of 
the band were in the secret ; but events disarranged their plans. 

Just as the party were placed in ambuscade for the attack on 
the merchants, a regiment of Cossacks surprised them, and 
charged on them so fiercely, that they had much trouble in recross- 
ing the river. Their great peril caused them to forget the plot 
against Ivan, who followed them in their retreat. 

As their troop in disorder was crossing the Tereck, whose 
waters are very rapid, the horse of a young Tchetchenges fell in 
the middle of the river, and was immediately drawn under by 
the current. Ivan, who was following him, urged his horse 
forward at the risk of being himself drowned, and seizing the 
young man just as he was disappearing under the water, succeeded 
in bringing him back to the other side. The Cossacks, by means 
of the daylight, which was just beginning to appear, recognized 
him by his uniform and his fur cap, and aiming at him cried out, 
" Deserter ! seize the deserter !" His clothes were riddled with 
balls. 

Finally, after having fought with desperation, and the enemy 
having exhausted their cartridges, he returned to the village with 
the glory of having saved the life of one of his companions, and 
of having rendered himself useful to the whole troop. 

[to be continued.] 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 25 

TWO DA YS IN THE LIFE OF MARIE-ANTOINETTE. 



THE FIEST DAY. 

" Vive la Dauphine, Marie- Antoinette ! " was the continuous 
shout along the faubourg leading from the Barriere St. Denis, 
one bright day in the year 1770, in joyous welcome to the Dau- 
phin of France and his lovely bride, who were making their 
triumphal entry into Paris: " Vive la Dauphine!" And ever 
as the sound died, the impetuous multitude caught it up again 
with a force and good will that made it ring to the very heavens. 
The whole country was assembled to witness the grand entrance 
of the young archduchess, far-famed for her beauty and virtues. 
The streets were so crowded that, not to miss the sight, men 
climbed upon the shoulders of their neighbors, or up the trees 
that bordered the side-walks. The windows of the houses were 
packed j even the roofs were covered with people. But it was 
a sight well worth the trouble, for the world could not have pro- 
duced the equal of the young maiden, who with features unveiled 
to the admiration of the populace, formed the centre of that sea 
of faces. Paris and Parisians were in their gala dress ; every 
chime and carillon in the city was ringing; the cannon was 
thundering a welcome from the dark towers of the Bastile. 

Suddenly a ball of fire flashed through the mirror-bright sky. 
All looked up to see what impatient spirit could not keep his fire- 
works till the evening. But a crash that drowned the roar of the 
cannon, stunned the gazers. Copper-colored clouds, formed seem- 
ingly from nothing, filled the heavens. A dazzling light, another 
crash, and the storm burst with pitiless fury on the astonished 
multitude, who for a moment remained as if petrified. Then 
followed a scene of terror and confusion, each struggling, scram- 
bling, fighting — his only thought to get to shelter from the ter- 
rible lightning that flashed from those awful clouds, making 
ghastly the faces beneath. It was neither day nor night, but a 
horrible gloom enshrouded the sky. The rain poured in torrents ; 
a driving, soaking, blinding rain, beating in the faces of the be- 



26 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

wildered crowd. Oaths, shrieks and prayers intermingled, as 
the panic-stricken, unwieldy mass surged backward and forward, 
crashing the life out of those who fell. The gens d'armes 
galloped hither and thither, endeavoring to force a passage for 
the royal party. In vain ! for in the general danger, self-preser- 
vation was stronger than loyalty. 

An hour later, and the streets were deserted. No sound was 
heard but the fall of the heavy rain. The gutters ran rivers. 
Here and there a homeless wretch crouched under a dark arch- 
way, and shiveringly drew his wet rags closer around him as the 
cold wind swept up the street, driving the rain into his poor 
shelter. Drenched streamers and strings of shattered flowers 
swayed dismally from bare scaffoldings. And wedged into yon 
corner is a ghastly thing which has been a human being, and 
whose voice has swelled the shout of welcome of an hour ago. 

The night closed in, and its terrible gloom weighed on the 
city, now mourning its dead.* The day of rejoicing was become 
an awful memory, and the bridal day of Marie-Antoinette was 
stained with blood. 

THE SECOND DAY. 

It was a dreary autumn day. The gray clouds hung low and 
a drizzling rain had set in. The streets of Paris from la Con- 
ciergerie to the Place de la Revolution were thronged by count- 
less multitudes who filled the air with fierce shouts of "Abas 
V Autrichienne V " Vive la Republique !" Suddenly the tumul- 
tuous cries were hushed, for the terrible gates of la Conciergerie 
had been thrown open, and Marie- Antoinette appeared. Clothed 
in coarse, white garments, her arms bound behind her, she sat in 
the rude tumbril, exposed to the gaze of the jeering multitude. 
Nothing remained of her once surpassing beauty but the exquisite 
regularity of her features. The short curls of her white hair 
shaded a haggard face whose eyes, red and bloodshot with weep- 



*Fifteen hundred people lost their lives on this day. Vide Lamartine and 
Carlyle. 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 27 

ing, scanned eagerly the raging crowd, perhaps in the hope of 
meeting one friendly look. 

The hush had lasted but for a moment ; and now, more vehe- 
mently than before, burst forth the horrid shout, " A bas la Au- 
trichiennv, ! " The awful procession moved on, hurrying to exe- 
cution this poor victim of a nation's fury, this innocent sufferer 
for the sins of a race of kings. The progress was slow, for the 
people, eager to heap upon her insult and outrage, blocked the 
way. They who once would have died for her, now clamorously 
demanded her life. Jolting over the rough stones, the fallen 
Queen passed those places that had been for her the scenes of 
gayety and happiness. Finally the gens d'armes stopped in the 
Place de la Revolution. With a firm step Marie- Antoinette 
descended from the tumbril and mounted the ladder to the Guil- 
lotine. For one instant she gazed towards the temple; "Adieu, 
once again, my children ! " she cried, then knelt. The ax fell, 
and with one stroke the life and sorrow of Mary- Antoinette were 
ended. 

The omens of the bridal day were fulfilled. 



PETER THE GREAT. 



CONTINUED. 



'What! thou good man! art thou still alive?' said she in the 
days of her splendour to Wurmb, who had been her fellow- 
servant in Gluck's household, he as tutor, she as maid-of-all- 
work. 'I will provide for thee,' she said, and got him a pension. 
She befriended the family of her benefactor Gluck, who had 
died a prisoner in Moscow; his son she took as her page, gave 
portions to his widow and two eldest daughters, and appointed 
the youngest a maid of honour at her court. Catharine's ready 
wit once saved the Czar and his army from dishonour and destruc- 
tion. It was during one of his campaigns against the Turks. 



28 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

The Russian army was completely surrounded ; provisions and 
ammunition were all but exhausted, and every attempt to break 
out of this trap resulted in repulse and defeat. Crushed down 
with despair, which brought on the spasms to which he was sub- 
ject, the Czar entered his tent, ordering that no one should in- 
trude. Catharine dared to disobey, and learned from him the 
hopeless condition of his army. Without consulting any one, 
she despatched an ambassador to the Grand Vizier to make over- 
tures of peace, loading him with gifts. Her own jewels and 
trinkets she tore off her body, and went the round of the camp, 
collecting all the valuables she could find, for which she gave 
receipts, signed by her own hand, and a promissory note payable 
on her return to Moscow. She also ordered preparations and 
bustling as for another and more serious effort to break the 
Turkish lines, and even led the Russian army within a hundred 
paces of the Turkish front, before the Grand Vizier consented to 
a truce, preliminary to a treaty of peace. The Czar never forgot 
his Catharine's heroism. He instituted a new order of Knighthood 
which he called the Order of St. Catharine ; and struck a medal 
bearing her image, encircled by precious stones, with the motto 
' For Love and Fidelity' engraven upon it. And here is the man- 
ifesto he issued when he decreed her his successor on the throne. 
After reciting the dangers to which he had been exposed during 
his twenty years' wars, he continues : — ' The Empress Catharine, 
our dearest consort, was an important help to us in all these dan- 
gers in which she voluntarily accompanied us, serving us with 
all her counsel, notwithstanding the natural weakness of her sex; 
more particularly at the battle of Pruth, where our army was 
reduced to 22,000 men, while the Turks, were 220,000 strong. 
It was in these desperate circumstances above all others that she 
signalized her zeal by a courage superior to her sex, as is well 
known to the whole army throughout the Empire. For these 
reasons, and in virtue of that power which God has given us, 
we are resolved to honour our spouse with the Imperial Crown 
in acknowledgment of her services and fatigues.' 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 29 

The disposition of Peter is generally represented to have been 
vicious and cruel. It is usual to depict him as a lawless despot 
who ordered heads to be lopped off in cold blood when the caprice 
seized him. His defects, however, seemed rather to have been 
outside knots and gnarls in a noble tree, than serious twists in 
the grain of his being. Severe, doubtless, he was ; but his 
severity was seldom the outburst of mere passion, almost invari- 
ably the means to an end, that end being the redemption of Rus- 
sia from chaos, and the establishment of the reign of law. Jus- 
tice tempered by severity is often a blessing to a community that 
is little better than a social and political wild ; and the wisdom 
and not the severity of the measures employed to regenerate his 
country is what we should chiefly look to in the case of Peter the 
Great, who had a half-civilised nation to discipline and make 
law-respecting and law-abiding. Seldom, especially in his riper 
years, was a delinquent punished without trial before a compe- 
tent tribunal ; and if Peter interfered with the sentences of the 
courts, which he seldom did, it was always to mitigate and not 
to aggravate the punishment. Once, when he was thought dying, 
it was suggested to him that he should release all the criminals 
in prison. ' Why/ said he, ' will God more readily forgive my 
sins because I have flooded Russia with its locked-up rascaldom ?' 
The frequent rebellions against his government, fomented often 
by his own relations, were suppressed with a relentless hand, and 
the ringleaders were brought to vigorous justice ; but what auto- 
crat would have respected the forms of law as he did when his 
choice was either to destroy his enemy or be destroyed by them? 
and was it not an additional aggrevation that these revolts always 
broke out while he was away labouring and toiling for the good 
of Russia, learning ship-building in Holland, repelling the in- 
roads of the Turks or Swedes, or fighting to give his country a 
seaboard ? He signed the decree for the execution of his eldest 
son; and although the crimes of the latter would not be visited 
by such punishment now, there was nothing arbitrary or self- 
willed about the Czar's conduct in the business. Indeed, his pre- 
vious expostulations, warnings, pleadings with his perverse and 



30 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

prodigal son are almost heartrending. You see in him an ago- 
nising wrestle between love of Russia and love of his child ; and 
had Peter only lived two thousand years earlier and been a 
Roman consul, we should have lauded his patriotism, his stoic 
virtue, his readiness to inflict the keenest suffering on himself, 
when his country's weal required it. But he was only a half- 
civilised Tartar savage, and his nature was torn with conflicting 
emotions ; and he had not the philosophic and unruffled repose of 
speech and manner and feeling that makes a Lucius Junius Bru- 
tus so grand and admirable, and which to the present writer 
seems simply hateful. I will back this headstrong, illiterate, and 
noisy barbarian against any Roman of them all for the truest 
and most loveable humanity. What fate would Hannibal have 
met at the hands of Rome had he been captured ? What doom 
did she decree to those who dared to defend their homes and 
hearths against her conquering armies ? Dragged them at her 
chariot wheels, or threw them to the lions, or made them butcher 
each other in the Amphitheatre, 'to make a Roman holiday.' 
That they were noble and wise, and honoured in their own land, 
only added zest and flavour to the sport. It was not thus that 
Peter treated the heroes he had conquered. He gave a grand 
entertainment in honour of the Swedish Admiral Ehrenschild, 
who had been taken prisoner of war. After the dinner he rose 
and said, 'Gentlemen, you see here a brave and faithful servant 
of his master, who has made himself worthy of the highest hon- 
our at his hands, and who shall always have my favour while he 
is with me, though he has killed me many a brave man. I for- 
give you,' he added, turning with a smile to the Swede, 'and you 
may always depend on my good-will.' Ehrenschild, thanking 
the Czar, replied, ' However honourably I may have acted with 
regard to my master, I did no more than my duty. I sought 
death, but failed to meet it; and it is no small comfort to me in 
my misfortune to be a prisoner of your Majesty, and to be treated 
with so much distinction by such a mighty captain.' After the 
battle of Pultowa, too, wheu he broke the power of Charles 
XII., he displayed equal magnanimity towards the officers whom 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 31 

the fate of war had forced to yield up their swords. In the 
course of the banquet he gave in honour of them, Peter pledged 
a bumper ' to his tutors in the art of war.' One of the Swedish 
generals asked to whom he referred. 'Yourselves, gentlemen/ 
the Czar replied, 'the brave Swedish commanders.' 'Then,' 
asked his colloquist, ' has not your Majesty been somewhat un- 
grateful in dealing so hardly with your teachers?' The Czar 
was so pleased with the reply, that he unbuckled his own sword 
and presented it to the general, requesting that he would wear it 
in token of his esteem for his valour and fidelity to his sovereign. 
Revenge and every other Roman virtue would have prompted 
him to a different course. In an earlier stage of this contest 
Charles had stormed or seized Dresden, the capital of Saxony, 
to which kingdom Peter's ambassador, Patkul, had been attested. 
Him Charles kept in chains for three months, and finally, to 
quote what he calls his own 'merciful ' decree, ' broke upon the 
wheel and quartered, for the reparation of his crimes and as a 
warning to others.' The Czar was highly incensed ; but instead 
of following the advice of his ministers to retaliate on the Swed- 
ish officers, he administered a severe rebuke to them for suggest- 
ing that he should stain his name with such an infamous crime. 
With all his blood-thirstiness and irascibleness of temper, Peter 
was far above petty feelings of revenge. 

The Czar cared little for outward pomp, believing that true 
greatness did not need to assert itself or pose in fine apparel or 
ostentatious magnificence. He dodged the receptions which his 
brother sovereigns got up in his honour, and spoke of them as 
unutterably childish and tiresome. Once, at least, he accompa- 
nied an ambassador to a foreign Court in the character of a private 
gentleman attached to the embassy, and took humble lodgings to 
disarm suspicion that he was other than he professed to be. 
There was a fibre of fine and beautiful simplicity in his character. 
While he was toiling as a shipwright at Zaandam, where he spent 
nine months learning his trade, he dressed like his fellow-work- 
men, in a round hat, white linen jacket and trousers, and joined 
in their banter and heavy Dutch chaff as well as his pretty con- 



32 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

siderable knowledge of the language would permit. While act- 
ing as a workman he let himself be spoken to and treated as one. 
He would take a heavy barrow from the hands of a feebler shop- 
mate and hurl the load to its destination. Many a knotty me- 
chanic thumb did he bandage and dress, for he was proud of his 
surgical skill. He had self-control enough to treat with all desir- 
able deference and respect the foremen in the several yards in 
which he laboured, bound himself to adhere to the regulations in 
force, and requested to be enrolled in the books and addressed 
by the name of Peter Zimmerman. The Duke of Marlborough, 
in search of amusement, entered the shipbuilding yard one day, 
and asked the foreman to point out the Czar without making 
them known to each other. 'Peter Zimmerman/ cried the mas- 
ter to His Majesty, 'why don't you help those men toiling with 
that big log ?' Peter at once ran to the assistance of his sweat- 
ing and overtasked ' chums/ never suspecting that he was being 
trotted out for exhibition. His simplicity of character seems to 
be belied by the following speech he addressed to William III., 
who was then in Holland: ' Most renowned Emperor! it was not 
the desire of seeing the celestial cities of the German Empire or 
the most powerful Republic of the Universe that made me leave 
my throne and my victorious armies to come into a distant coun- 
try; it was solely the ardent desire of paying my respects to the 
most brave and generous hero of the day, &c.' The speech is so 
ridiculous, bombastic, foreign to Peter's nature, that it must have 
been written for him, or composed by him under the inspiration 
of that vanity to which lads just getting out of their teens are 
specially prone. ' Never fear/ he once said while out at sea in a 
storm, and the sailors were getting alarmed; 'the Czar Peter 
cannot be drowned; did you ever hear of a Russian Czar perish- 
ing on the waters?' Such hours of self-consciousness occur in 
the lives of all youths of talent, but do not all give tone or colour 
to their ripe character. During the four months be spent in 
England, William learned to appreciate the worth of the Czar in 
spite of his rough, uncouth ways and silly speeches and grotes- 
que manners. Could anything denote less self-consciousness 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 33 

than this? The King's servants often laughed at him to his 
face, yet he left 120 guineas to be distributed among them. He 
presented to the monarch a rough ruby which the Amsterdam 
jewellers valued at 10,000£., and which he carried to the palace 
in his vest pocket wrapped in a piece of fusty old brown paper. 
Once, while he was in Berlin, Frederick William sent a magnifi- 
cent chariot drawn by richly caparisoned horses to drive him to 
the palace. Peter, seeing it arrive, went out the back door of. 
his lodgings and walked to the Court, instructing the gentlemen 
of his suite to follow in the carriage. Thanking and apologising 
to the King, the Czar said he was not accustomed to such splen- 
dour, and often walked five times as much at a stretch. Nothing 
pleased him better than to receive his old shopmates at St. 
Petersburg, and be addressed by them in the old familiar names, 
Peter Zimmerman, Peter Baas, or even Skipper Peter. And 
that he saw through the folly of such speeches as that he deliv- 
ered to William is clear from the following. Shortly after the 
battle of Pultowa he visited Holland again. The municipalities 
arranged to give him a splendid reception. William's Dutch 
Earl, Albemarle, then on a visit to the States, was deputed to 
bid the Czar welcome. This he did in a speech which vied for 
exaggeration with Peter's own to the Earl's master. 'I thank 
you heartily, said the Czar in reply, ' though I don't understand 
much of what you say. I learnt my Dutch among shipbuilders, 
but the sort of language you have spoken I am sure I never 
learnt.' On the same visit he requested the shipbuilders and 
workmen not to call him 'Majesty.' 'Come, brothers,' said he, 
Met us talk like plain, honest shipwrights;' and then, summoning 
a servant who was filling the glasses out of a beer jug, he laugh- 
ingly demanded the 'can,' and having got it, said, 'I can now 
drink as much as I like, and nobody can tell what I have taken.' 
He attended surgical classes in Holland. Indeed, he dabbled 
in all the sciences and mechanical arts, but was specially proud 
of his attainments as a surgeon. He gloried in drawing a tooth, 
bleeding a patient, tapping for dropsy, or lopping off a limb ; 
and on his return to Russia started a limited practice. His own 

5 



34 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

valet once availed himself of Peter's weakness as a vehicle of re- 
venge on his wife for her unfaithfulness, a misdemeanor towards 
which Peter was very tolerant. Noticing the flunky with a sad 
countenance, the Czar asked the matter. ' Nothing, Sire, but my 
wife has a toothache and won't let the tooth be drawn.' ' Let 
me see her,' said Peter, ' and I warrant you I'll cure her." The 
poor woman insisted she had no toothache. 'Sire,' said the valet, 
' she always says that when I bring the doctor.' ' Hold her arm 
then,' said his Majesty, 'and we'll relieve her suffering.' Peter 
seized the tooth which the woman's husband pointed to as the 
bad one and smartly whirled it out. The Czar afterwards dis- 
covered that he had been tricked, and the poor woman made to 
suffer unnecessarily, and he gave the valet a knouting with his 
own royal hands. 

He had a strong dislike to be stared at, and hated all kinds of 
fetes and ceremonies, unless he could mingle in the common 
crowd. ' Too many folks, too many folks,' he would say, when 
asked to take a part in any pageant. 

A barber at Amsterdam, who had seen a description and 
portrait of him, was the first to pierce Peter's incognito, and con- 
fided the secret to each of his customers, who thereupon went 
about publishing it. Crowds at once gathered round his dwell- 
ing, and Peter sulked in his room for days. He was specially 
annoyed by the curiosity of the English, who forced themselves 
into his room while he was eating, and gazed at him with the 
celebrated stony British stare, as if he were a phenomenon. An 
amusing account is given in the Life of Thomas Story of an in- 
terview two Quakers cunningly effected with him. They en- 
deavoured to persuade him to adopt Quaker principles, and pre- 
sented him with several treatises on the subject for private study. 
The good-natured Czar promised to attend their meeting, where 
it is said he conducted himself with great decorum. He wanted 
to see Parliament without being seen, " in order to which/ Lord 
Dartmouth says, ' he was placed in a gutter upon the housetop, 
to peep in at the window, where he made so ridiculous a figure 
that neither king nor people could forbear laughing, which 
obliged him to retire sooner than he intended.' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 35 

Contact with the world brushed this shyness wholly off him. 
The Quaker interview must have made some impression on him, 
for many years afterwards, when at Friedrickstadt, in Holstein, 
he inquired if there was any Quaker meeting in the place. As 
there happened to be one, he ordered his suite to accompany 
him, though they were quite ignorant of the language. The 
Czar kept up a running interpretation as the service proceeded, 
and afterwards thanked the preacher, saying, 'that whoever 
could live up to his doctrine would be happy.' 

On his second visit to a town in Holland, he and the burgo- 
master of the place attended divine service, when an unconscious 
action of the Czar almost upset the gravity of the congregation. 
Peter feeling his head growing cold turned to the heavily wigged 
chief magistrate at his side and transferred the wig, the hair of 
which flowed down over the great-little man's shoulders, to his 
own head, and sat so till the end of the service, when he returned 
it to the insulted burgomaster, bowing his thanks. The great 
man's fury was not appeased till one of Peter's suite assured him 
that it was no practical joke at all that His Majesty had played, 
that his usual custom when at church, if his head was cold, was 
to seize the nearest wig he could clutch. Peter was tolerant to- 
wards all religious opinions, and wherever he was, attended 
church without asking after its special ism. The first building 
he erected in St. Petersburg was a citadel; the second, a church. 

There are some stories told about Peter that do honour to his 
heart and disposition. On his arrival at Zaandam his first care 
was to search out and befriend the widow of a skipper of the 
name of Munsch, who had given him his first lesson in seaman- 
ship at Archangel, representing himself to be a fellow-workman 
of her late husband. In the retinue that accompanied the em- 
bassy to Holland there was a dwarf, who was Peter's faithful 
attendant at all festivities. One day there was no room in the 
carriage for this manikin, and it was suggested that he should 
travel in another. 'By no means,' said the Czar, and took the 
pigmy on his knee. The delight with which his old shipmates 
received him on his second visit to Holland may be easily im- 



36 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

agined. As he landed, a thousand stentorian lungs cried out 
' Welcome, Peter Baas !' while to his surprise a gushing old lady- 
rushed forward to embrace him. 'My good lady/ said His Ma- 
jesty, ' how do you know who I am ?' ' Your Majesty/ she 
replied, ' often sat down and shared our humble meals nineteen 
years ago. I am the wife of Baas Pool.' The Czar instantly 
returned her salute, kissed her on the forehead, and invited him- 
self to dine again with her that very day. 

Peter's highest ambition was to make Russia a great maritime 
power. He used to say, what Russia is practically saying still 
alike in Europe and in Asia, that it was not land that he wanted 
but sea. Not only did he spend a year of his life learning ship- 
building, but to popularise the service he even toiled as a com- 
mon sailor. To foster the love of a seafaring life he had a gar- 
den laid out in an island near St. Petersburg, on which he built 
a palace. He presented boats to the nobility, that they might 
be able to visit him, on the condition that each should keep his 
vessel in order and provide another when it was done. He en- 
couraged them to vie with each other in regatta competitions. 
The Muscovite priests taught that it was a crime to leave Russia 
and travel in the land of the infidel, yet the Czar, in his zeal for 
the development of Russia, braved their religious fury and pre- . 
judice. He ordered the nobility to go abroad and acquire, not 
only the manners of foreign Courts and countries, but their arts 
and sciences, especially naval architecture. A story is told of 
one who returned from Venice as ignorant as he went. 'What 
the duce have you been learning ?' said the Czar. ' Sire, I 
smoked my pipe, drank my brandy, and rarely stirred out of 
my room.' More amused that enraged, Peter suggested that the 
lord should be made one of his Court fools on the spot. He had 
the bitterest opposition and prejudice to contend with in his 
efforts to make Russia respected and great. In his search for a 
sea-border; he extended his dominion to the sea of Azoph, the 
Caspian Sea, and the Gulf of Finland. 

Amsterdam was the model he had in his mind while planning 
St. Petersburg. He had a nervous dread of the sea to overcome 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 37 

in his youth, and this he did by spending all his spare time on 
the river that flows through Moscow. He passed himself 
through a regular curriculum as a sailor, and never gave himself 
a higher commission till he had earned it. He started as the 
ship's drudge, was then promoted to be cook's menial, whose work 
was to light the fire, wash the dishes, and make himself gener- 
ally useful ; next he became cabin-boy and waited at table ; and 
it was a proud moment in his life when he attained the high 
position of a sailor before the mast, and in smooth waters was 
permitted to handle the helm. He fought as a captain of Bom- 
bardiers in a naval fight with the Swedes, and was awarded the 
order of St. Andrew for his gallant conduct ; and after the glo- 
rious action at which Admiral Ehrenschild was taken prisoner, 
he was summoned by the Vice-Czar Roman ofsky, by his name 
of Rear-Admiral Peter, to take his seat beside the throne, and 
in recognition of his daring and success was promoted to the 
office of Vice- Admiral of Russia, amid cries of ' Long live the 
Vice- Admiral !' He left Russia, which he got without a ship, 
with a fleet of 41 vessels ready for service, carrying 2,106 guns, 
manned by 15,000 seamen, besides a number of frigates and 
galleys. 

Peter died in the arms of his Catharine on January 28, 1725, 
some say poisoned by her; but that seems not believable. His 
body lay in state in the palace till the day of interment, March 21. 
In the interval between his death and burial his third daughter 
departed this life, and the obsequies of father and child were 
celebrated together amid the tears of a sorrowing nation, for the 
people had begun to see the genuine worth and virtue of their 
monarch through his rough outside coating. No memory is 
more fondly cherished in Russia than Peter's. Everything that 
can remind the nation of him is carefully treasured in her mu- 
seums; his hat, sword, dogs, horse, even his old clothes, and the 
wooden hut he erected with his own hands while supervising St. 
Petersburg as it rose above the waters — all are sacred. He 
loved Russia with a kingly love,- and sacrificed his son rather than 
that an unqualified and worthless monarch should preside over 



38 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

its destinies. ' I would rather,' said he, ' commit my people to 
an entire stranger who was worthy of such a trust than to my 
own undeserving offspring.' It is not the language of hyperbole 
to say that he invented Russia. His merits as a wise statesman 
and legislator far surpass his defects as a tyrant. In such a 
kingdom as his, tyranny was the kindliest rule. Individuals 
might have to suffer, but the principles of justice such tyranny 
as Peter's vindicated and defended are benefits and blessings to 
the end of time. He was an untutored genius who had to create 
an ideal of kingcraft for himself; and if he failed let readers 
judge. If an apology is needed for his frailties, rough methods, 
boorishness of mind, barbarianism, the apology we offer is that 
he took the shape the conditions of Russian society and the en- 
vironment around him would permit — that thcsedefects belonged 
rather to his times than to himself; while whatever of good he 
was or great he did, was the result of the throes of his own grop- 
ing and darkly struggling spirit, earnest intellect, and deter- 
mined will. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 39 



THE RECTOR'S ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING 

CLASS. 



Young Ladies of the Graduating Class: 

You have reached at last the day so longed for by many of 
your fellow-pupils, and which you have anticipated with feelings 
of the deepest interest. It is Commencement Day! Looked 
forward to by some as the end of toil and self-denying labor, as 
the beginning of a life of uninterrupted amusement and self- 
indulgence: but not so regarded by the earnest countenances of 
the class I now address. You have indeed reached the goal of 
your school life ; you have labored with diligence and success : 
you have long since won the respect and affection of your teach- 
ers, and have not forfeited them : and as the result of untiring 
devotion to duty, as the consequence of the careful and thorough 
performance of every requirement in the varied course you have 
been assigned, you now carry off the highest prizes, — the diplo- 
mas and rewards of merit which it shall be my delight, in the 
name of the school, to confer. I have known yon long and well, 
and am sure that intellectually and morally you are worthy 
of the distinctions we would this day heap upon you. Take 
then these parchments, upon which is inscribed the formal expres- 
sion of our endorsement of your proficiency ; take them, as em- 
blems of our entire satisfaction with the use you have made of 
the opportunities St. Mary's has offered you ; take them as the 
victors of old in the Grecian games, the crowns and flowers, 
which were bestowed upon them, and for which even Emperors 
were willing to contend ; take these well-earned honors with the 
eyes of your friends here upon you, and with the hearts of the 
loved ones at home beating quickly with joyful sympathy as the 
hour of your triumph comes around. Let your souls exult; let 
them expand; let them mount up with wings as eagles ; let them 
rejoice as conquerors after a well fought battle when they divide 



40 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the spoil ! and confess, as you thus revel in the delights of this 
supreme hour, the truth of the legend which your class has chosen 
as its motto, "Finis coronal opus!" 

Yes ! there has been work, honest, hard, laborious work ; un- 
relaxed, unremittent, constant application. Not that this toil has 
been without its own reward; not that there has been no refresh- 
ment by the way, as you felt you were accomplishing that for which 
you were sent, and as you caught glimpses in the excellence of 
your weekly and monthly reports of the triumph at the end. 
But, for all this, you know, better than any one else, that the suc- 
cess which crowns this hour has been the result of faithful and 
continuous effort. I have seen you in those periods specially 
devoted to the duty of preparing your studies, using every moment 
in purchase of its worth ; and at other times, when you might have 
sought some diversion in miscellaneous reading, or in writing 
letters to your many friends, at such times intent upon the work 
of a more complete preparation than the text-book could afford : 
consulting authorities in the library and noting down their state- 
ments; or plying your self-sacrificing teachers with questions, and 
listening to their fuller and freer explanations after the regular 
hours of recitation. And oh ! what a blessed privilege it is for a 
pupil to have a teacher capable of awakening enthusiasm and in- 
terest, and of directing the mind thus stimulated to those intel- 
lectual pastures, those never-failing springs of knowledge, which 
delight and satisfy, while at the same time they refresh and streng- 
then, and excite to still further effort ! I have witnessed, I say, 
your work ; and now the end has come, and you are here 
crowned in this most sacred place, with the highest rewards and 
honors St. Mary's can bestow. The impress of her seal upon 
your diplomas, is her attestation, the outward and visible sign of 
her approbation of the work you have accomplished. 

But it is your Commencement Day. And, as I have said, 
some think from this name of the day that life henceforth is to 
be a path of roses, that amends is to be made for the privations 
of school discipline; and that pleasure without alloy is to be 
henceforth their daily experience. They regard themselves as 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 41 

"finished," as fully equipped intellectually; as having exhausted 
the sources of knowledge ! But your earnest faces tell of other 
aspirations. You know well that your labor here has been merely 
preliminary. At most you have been sinking shafts, and thus 
learning, as do the miners, where the precious ore lies : preparing 
yourselves for deeper and more thorough investigations. Or like 
the gymnasts, you have been developing your powers, testing them, 
learning what you are capable of doing, and thus fitting your- 
selves to master the problems of the future. You will take your 
first steps and not your last in the fields of education — the only 
education of any enduring value, self-education — after to-day. 
You will no doubt be greatly benefitted by the development and 
the strengthening of your powers while with us, but the real, true 
and invaluable education is that which you work out for your- 
selves. All that the best preparation can do, all that the most 
devoted teacher can accomplish for you while at school, is to excite 
your interest in the work of self-culture; to give you such intel- 
lectual exercise as shall enable you to feel confidence in your 
mental powers, and to point out to your ardent spirits the vast 
domains of knowledge still unexplored. It is for you to com- 
plete in the life upon which you are now entering the work of 
your self-education, of which this is the Commencement Day. 
Take up some of the topics which have suggested themselves, 
as during your course you have studied the histories and litera- 
tures of the nations of the past, or of those of the modern world. 
Devote your time to the perfection of yourselves in music, or in 
the arts, if you have labored upon these studies while here at 
school. But make the day your Commencement Day indeed ! 
I shall not for a moment permit the thought that you can be 
willing to waste the culture you have here received by careless- 
ness; by the temptations of light and trifling company; by neg- 
lecting to use the powers which have been here developed ; and 
thus, in a few months perhaps, to form tastes and habits whi«h 
will render of no effect the patient labor of so many days. 

Bear with me if I am tedious ; it is the last time. But though 
you are so immature intellectually, and have, as you deeply feel, 



42 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

knowledge barely sufficient to perceive how little you do know, 
if the result of your hard study has made you aware that the 
knowledge you now have is but as a drop compared to the vast 
ocean, which covers as with a garment, three-fourths of the sur- 
face of our globe, you have matured in one direction. 

The moral nature, by which we perceive the difference between 
right and wrong, by which, under the influence of the Holy 
Spirit, we are led to choose the good and refuse the evil; this 
part of our being is rapidly developed and matured ; so that 
often a young person, a mere child in years, has a character for 
virtue or vice as indelibly marked as if the head was hoary with 
age. 

Now .this is your Commencement Day ; and as in one sense, 
that is intellectually, you are but beginners — prepared, it is true, 
in a measure by well formed habits of study, and by confidence 
in mental powers, tested upon many a difficult task for the work 
before you ; in another sense, I sincerely believe you are 
thoroughly furnished, and that is as to your moral nature. You 
go from us to the labor and battle of life mature, veteran soldiers 
of the Cross. The waters of Holy Baptism, when you promised 
not to be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, but 
manfully to fight under His banner against sin, the world and 
the devil and to continue Christ's faithful soldiers and servants 
unto your life's end, are still fresh; and you now, as those who 
know well in whom they trust, are about to go out into the world 
strbng in the Lord and in the Power of His might. Remember 
that you bear His mark, His Cross upon your forehead, think of 
it as a token of your salvation, think of its length as it stretches 
forth on the right hand and on the left into boundless space, 
think of its height as it rises up toward heaven above, and of its 
depth as it sinks down into the earth below, and let it be to you 
the measure of His love which passeth knowledge. If it would 
be matter of deepest mortification to all interested in you should 
you abandon your intellectual culture, so auspiciously begun, for 
the frivolous amusements of society, of how much greater wrong 
would you be guilty should you disregard the moral training 
which you have here received ! 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 43 

Do not expect or desire conspicuous places; look not for dis- 
tinctions as leaders in society, let your work, your calling, be 
found as was that of your Lord's, in deeds of love and mercy, 
in devotion to your parents, in helping your brothers and sisters; 
in doing good to all within your influence. Let this be the next 
school in which you are to labor the remainder of your life. 
And then what joy! what blessedness will be your portion how- 
ever laborious the service; and at the last great day, when you 
shall hear those cheering words, " In as much as ye have done 
it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it 
unto Me. Enter into the joy of Thy Lord." "Finis Coronabit 
Opus," you shall be crowned with immortal garlands which can- 
not fade, and commence that life of radiant peace which shall 
shine forever in every cleansed and forgiven heart. 



ST. MAEY'S MUSE. 

ZPTJBLISECEID MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 

EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 



Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

gig^Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of A. Williams & Co. 



Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 

With this number we bid farewell to our friends and readers 
of 1879 and '80, and at the same time send greetings to those of 
'80 and '81. We heartily thank the former for the kind con- 
sideration which has been invariably extended to us, and only 
hope that the numberless shortcomings, which are but too appar- 
ent to 1 ourselves, may be as gently borne with in the future- as 
they have been in the past. At any time it is pretty hard to turn 
out the sort of "editorial" we would like, from such a Hetero- 
geneous work-shop as St. Mary's, but the pressure of school work 
during the past month has been heavier than ever, and amid all 
the other claims of the closing weeks, it has been all but impos- 
sible to accomplish anything beyond. But now our labors are 
ended. The victors in the scholastic race have gone to enjoy the 
home rest they have so justly earned. The worn and weary 
teachers have scattered to their summer resorts for much needed 
refreshment, and only a very few remain to indite for the Muse 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 45 

THE EVENTS OF COMMENCEMENT WEEK. 

The disappointment of not having Bisnop Lyman with us 
for the services of Sunday, June 6th, was like a^morning cloud 
o'ershadowing the first hours of our proposed exercises, but 
accepting very gladly his substitute, Rev. Mr. Weston, as the 
preacher, we were comforted by the speedy scattering of our little 
cloud, which returned no more during the progress of our whole 
programme. The daily examinations proceeded with regularity, 
animation and success. With very few exceptions, they gave 
evidence of faithful, steady work throughout the session. Many 
of them were really brilliant. 

On Monday evening the Primary and Kindergarten classes 
entertained their friends, giving, as we believe, entire satisfaction 
and much pleasure. 

Their recitations in French were considered very remarkable 
in children so young and who have studied French only this year; 
the singing was in good time and tune, and hearty; the Calis- 
thenics, and particularly the Color-march, were beautifully done, 
and in the final Chorus we are sure that every heart in that 
crowded assembly must have joined as the precious little ones 
prayed God "Bless the knowledge we have won, and keep us 
ever in Thy care." We could ask nothing better than that all 
the entertainments given at St. Mary's should be as gratifying 
as was this of our dear little ones. 

0» Tuesday evening the French and German exercises came 
off, according to the following 

PROGRAMME : 
Tancred — Overture, ...... Rostini 

Misses Foil and Peebles. 
" Smedes and deRosset. 
Dramafic Recitation from Joan of Arc, (in German) . . Schiller 

Misses Allston, deRosset, Griffin, Huger, Peebles and Settle. 
Death of Minnehaha, ...... Longfellow 

Miss M. Settle. 
Song— By the Fire, . . . . . . Boorley 

Miss Hardin. 
Scene from Le Cid, (in French) .... Corneille 

Misses Hardin, Sutton and Winston. 



46 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

The Return, ....... Campana 

Misses Harbin and F. Sharp. 
The Lion's Ride, ....... 

Miss F. Slater. 
Song— The Tempest, ...... Dudley Buck 

Miss M. L. Blume. 

COMEDIE FKANgAISE PAR MME. NARBEL. 
La Treille du Roi. 

La Reine, Miss S. G. Shaw 

La Marquise, Miss Allston 

Jeunes Orphelines, 

Misses S. L. Cuningham, Griffin, Huger, M. Lewis, McNair and Slater. 

Rondo, in G., Von Weber 

Miss deRosset. 

To say that they were as good as usual, would hardly express the 
unusual manifestations of delight with which they were received. 
The recitations, both colloquial and declamatory, were certainly 
admirably made, and manifested a degree of easy familiarity with 
those foreign languages which is rarely attained by school girls. 
The English recitations (thrown in for the delectation of those 
who could only enjoy the rest of the programme by sight) were 
so fine as to arouse an enthusiastic expectation of other morceaux 
of the same kind which were announced for Wednesday and 
Thursday. 

The interest of all was ever on the increase, and by Wednesday 
evening the large parlor and piazza and hall adjacent were liter- 
ally packed with people, who knew well that a rare musicaT and 
literary treat was in store for them. And right nobly d^d "our 
girls" meet the expectations of their critical, though kind audi- 
ence. The programme was exquisitely gotten up — a real little 
gem in itself — and was of no common order in the selections 
offered. We have yet to hear a whisper of disappointment from 
any one of that multitude of listeners. 

Not a break from beginning to end. The difficult music 
flowed on in unbroken harmony. The rich tide of song rose in 
waves of sweetest melody, and the brilliant recitations were so 
graceful, so easy, so perfect, that one could not find words to ex- 
press the wonder and admiration they excited. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



47 



PROGRAMME: 
PART I. 

1. Fest Ouverture — By request, . • • • • Leutner 

Misses deRosset and Griffin, 
Misses Hardin and Allston. 

2. Recitation — Sunrise in the Vale of Charnounie, . Coleridge 

Miss S. L. Cuningham. 

3. Vocal Duett — Aprile, . ... . . Concone 

Misses Blume and deRosset. 

4. Piano Soto— Polaeca, Op. 72, . . . . Von Weber 

Miss L. P. Allstqn. 

5. Vocal Solo — Morning Land, . . . • Dudley Buck 

Miss M. L. Hardin. 

6. Recitation — Horatius at the Bridge, . . . Macaulay 

Miss R. A. Collins. 

7. Vocal Solo — Cavatina, from Lucia, . . . Donizetti 

Miss M. L. Blume. 

8. Concerto, in C Minor, . . . . Beethoven 

Miss G. deG. deRosset. 

Piano accompaniment by 

Miss Smedes. 



PART II. 

1. Piano Solo— Polonaise, Op. 40, No. 2, ... Chopin 

Miss B. E. Griffin. 

2. Recitation— The Little Rid Hin, . . . Mrs. Whitney 

Miss F. M. Huoer. 

3. Vocal Solo — Storm and Sunshine, . . . Dudley Buck 

Miss L. P. Allston. 

4. Recitation— The Bells, . . . . . E. A. Poe 

. Miss B. E. Griffin. 

5. Piano Solo — Faschingsschwank, . . . . Schumann 

Miss E. H. Smedes. 

6. Vocal Solo — Recitative«.nd Aria, from der Freischiitz, . Von Weber 

Miss M. L. Blume. 

7. Recitation— The High Tide in Lincolnshire, . . Ingelow 

Miss M. L. Hardin. 

8. Marches and Trios, Op. 40, Nos. 1,2,3, . . . ' Schubert 

Misses deRosset and Griffin, 
Misses Hardin and Allston. 



48 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

The exercises of Commencement Day were thoroughly enjoy- 
able. The essays were, as a whole, decidedly superior to those 
of any preceding yeaf ; the recitations also were more finished. 
Even our accomplished teacher of Literature, Composition and 
Elocution expressed herself entirely satisfied, which was perhaps 
the greatest triumph of her scholars. So much of their success 
in carrying out all these programmes is due to her faithful and 
untiring instruction, that they must ask her indulgence for thus 
publicly acknowledging their indebtedness to her. With heart- 
felt thanks for her unceasing pains and interest in them for three 
years past, they bid her a sad farewell, and wish her all happi- 
ness and success in her future home. 

COMMENCEMENT DAY PROGRAMME: 

Salutatory and Essay — A Comparison of Mythologies, 

Miss Fannie M. Htjger. 
Recitation — The Son of the Evening Star, . . . Longfellow 

Miss Gabrielle deG. deRosset. 
Essay — Rivers of the East, 

Miss Louise P. Allston. 
Recitation — The Sleeping Beauty, .... Tennyson 

Miss Annie R. Collins. 
Honor — Essay from the Sub-Senior Class, 

The Day before the Flood, . Bead by Miss S. E. Martin 

Miss Minnie B. Aebeetson. 
Essay — The Loves of the Poets, 

Miss Annie R. Collins. 
Recitation — The Lay of St. Dunstan, . . . Ingoldsby Legends 

Miss Louise P. Allston. 
Essay — Epics— and Valedictories, 

Miss Gabrielle deG. deRosset. 

The Recitations and Essays all finished, in words full of feel- 
ing and in tones tremulous with emotion, Miss deRosset addressed 
her Valedictories to her Rector, teachers, companions and class- 
mates. 

The audience then adjourned to the Chapel, and were soon fol- 
lowed by the scholars, teachers and Clergy, in procession, singing 
that inspiring hymn " Ten thousand times ten thousand." The 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 49 

Rector read the Roll of Honor, announced the Distinctions, con- 
ferred the Diplomas, delivered his address to the graduates, and 
then as the four girls, with all their blushing honors fresh upon 
them knelt before him, he committed them so tenderly to God's 
gracious mercy and protection, that all present felt that such a 
benediction must be a potent shield to them in many an hour of 
strife and trial in the days to come. Singing the beautiful Reces- 
sional Hymn "On our way rejoicing, as we homeward go," the 
large congregation dispersed. 

The week's work was finished most fittingly by the 

ANNUAL, MEETING OF THE ALUMNAE. 

Quite a number were present and many new names were added 
to the roll. After the reading of the Secretary's report, the 
Association proceeded to the election of officers, with the follow- 
ing result: President, Mrs. W. R. Cox ; Vice-Presidents, Misses 
F. J. Johnson and Eliza McKee; Treasurer, MrsR. S. Tucker; 
Secretary, Miss Kate McKimmon. During the meeting inter- 
esting letters, in response to the call given through the May Muse, 
were read and heard with great interest. 

On motion, it was agreed that a meeting be appointed for 
" Fair Week," in October next, to act upon the Constitution and 
By-laws of the Association, after which the meeting adjourned. 
The members of the Association, and all interested in it, have 
cause to feel very much encouraged; it already numbers eighty- 
two, with almost daily additions. For the benefit of all the 
daughters of St. Mary's, this copy of the proceedings of the 
meeting is put into the Muse, through whose pages we tender 
heartfelt thanks to those who have responded so promptly and 
warmly to the call mafle in the last number. We are glad to 
acknowledge letters from Miss K. P. Wheaton, Miss J. O. 
Allen, Mrs. F. B. Aiken, Mrs. Otelia Eaton, Mrs. Arebe Yar- 
borough, Miss Kate D. Cheshire, Miss Juliet Somerville and 
Miss M. C. Smedes. 

It will be remembered that the object of this Association was 
fully set forth in the May Muse, and we cannot too cordially 
7 



50 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

invite all old scholars who have not yet enrolled their names, or 
paid their fee, to do so without delay. It is exceedingly desirable 
that the practical object of our efforts should be put into execu- 
tion next September. Communications may be addressed during 
the summer to Mrs. R. S. Tucker, Treasurer, Raleigh. 

We have to record the death, on Juue 10, of one of our 
Alumnse, Mrs. Ed. Graham Haywood (Mag Henry). In the 
prime of life, and leaving a large family to whom she was ever 
a devoted mother, there is a double sadness in her sudden 
removal. We tender our heartfelt sympathy to her bereaved 
children, and pray God to comfort them in their great sorrow. 

Mrs. Meares' birthday celebration was one of the marked 
events of the past month, and deserves fuller mention than we 
can give it. Suffice it to say the girls were made very happy 
by it, and she was the recipient not only of their loving con- 
gratulations but of many very substantial tokens of remembrance 
from friends far and near. 

Our city subscribers will hereafter find the Muse at the book- 
store of A. Williams & Co. Mr. Harrell, the junior partner of 
that obliging and enterprising firm, is authorized to receive sub- 
scriptions for the next year. 

Commencement Week brought Mrs. Aldert Smedes home 
again from her long visit to Wadesboro. Her daughters, Mrs. 
Leake and Miss Sadie Smedes, came with her, and the family 
reunion will probably continue during the quiet and restful 
months of summer. 

Miss Blume's songs on Wednesday evening were like the 
swan's, sweeter than ever towards the last. She sails for Europe 
immediately, but has so fallen in love with her St. Mary's home, 
that September will find her again among us. Hers is said to be 
a family notable in the musical world. One of her brothers took 
the prize at the Royal Conservatory, Leipsig, when quite young, 
and has just been elected Director-in-Chief of the Queen's Con- 
certs, in London. Another is a teacher of celebrity in Edinburgh. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 51 

A call to Packer Institute, Brooklyn, deprives us of one of 
our most beloved and valued teachers, Miss Czarnomska, whose 
efficient services have rendered her so acceptable a member of our 
Faculty. We are glad to believe that she will be no less appre- 
ciated at Packer, her own Alma Mater, than she has been at St. 
Mary's. 

The good taste of our Director of Music in selecting two of 
Dudley Buck's songs for the Commencement programme, is fully 
endorsed by the announcement that Mr. Buck has received the 
prize awarded by the Cincinnati College of Music, for the best 
American composition. 

The recent alterations in the school buildings have considerably 
curtailed our accommodations. This fact, together with the indi- 
cations of a much larger number of boarders next session, ren- 
ders it necessary that early application should be made by new 
pupils. Mrs. Meares begs that old scholars expecting to return, 
will signify their intention at least a week before the session 
opens, that their places may be kept. Alcoves will not be 
reserved after the first Monday of the new term. 

We call attention to the advertisement on another page, of 
Mme. Clement's School, Germantown, Pa. Miss Clement is one 
of the daughters of St. Mary's who feels a sort of maternal pride 
in the reputation for sound moral and religious training, as well 
as for the high educational standard which for over twenty years 
her school has justly maintained. 

The Gold Medal for proficiency in Music was awarded to 
Miss Gabrielle deRosset. That for the best exercises in Har- 
mony to Miss Louise Allston. 

Miss deRosset will return in September, to be an assistant 
teacher under the Director, and at the same time to continue her 
own studies in Music. 

Miss Allston has secured a situation to take charge of a school 
in Buncombe county, and will enter upon her duties without 
delay. We give her a loving God-speed — wishing her every 
blessing her heart can desire, 

gaant Mary's School IM&f 



52 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

We have only time and space to announce that the prize for 
correct answers to the Questions, is won by Miss Phoebe McCul- 
lough, of Spartanburg, S. C. She has our thanks and congratu- 
lations. We will take pleasure in publishing her answers in 
September. 

The visitors we have had the pleasure of bidding welcome to 
St. Mary's during the past month are "legion" The Clergy of 
the Diocese, in passing to and from the Convention in Winston, 
could not fail to look in upon their "nursery," and were riffht 
heartily welcomed by the children of their various parishes 
Miss Belle Huger, of Charleston, spent several days with us, 
winning our hearts, and, we hope, leaving some of her own with 
us. She must have been gratified at seeing her sister's school- 
life crowned with so many honors. Miss Roberta Lord also 
made us glad with her presence, and went away regretting more 
than ever that she was never a school-girl at St. Mary's. Misses 
Addie Smith, Alice Leake, Annie Hawkins, Hattie Lloyd, Jen- 
nie Hinton and Annie Lewis were among the old scholars who 
rejoiced our hearts by corning. Our dear and venerable friend, 
Dr. DeRosset, honored us and gladdened his little daughter's 
heart by coming to see her graduate. We were happy in having 
Rev. Messrs. Larmour and Higgs abide with us for a short sea- 
son. The Reverend Clergy of the city also claim our thanks 
for the honor of their presence. 

During service on the last Sunday of the school year, Mr. 
Smedes read the following report of alms and contributions, and 
their disbursement during the session: 

To Diocesan Missions, $10; Bishops' Salaries, $30; Aldert 
Smedes Scholarship in Miss Nelson's School, Shanghai, $40; 
St. John's Hospital, Raleigh, $76; The Poor of Raleigh, $21; 
Mission Church at Franklin, N. C, $4.70; Church at Hickory, 
$8; Mexican Mission, $6.75; Various churches in North Caro- 
lina and Virginia, $11. Total, $206.45. 

A large proportion of this was contributed by the Missionary 
Sewing Society of the School, and by Mite Chest collections in 
the different Bible classes 



NEW AND SECOND HAND 

PIANOS FOR SALE. 

On the Most Reasonable Terms. 



New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. 

Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any size. 

All kinds of Sheet Music furnished wholesale and retail. 

Parties wishing anything in the musical line should write for our terms 

before purchasing. 

v ST. MART'S SCHOOL, 




and Shoes, Sandals, Slippers 

and all kinds of Ladies' Misses' and Children's 

fine Shoes, Gent's fine Hand-made Boots of the 

best makes, or Trunks, at lowest prices, call or 

send to 

HELLER BROTHERS, 

RALEIGH, N, C. 

jl^^ School Shoes a Specialty. 

Orders by mail promptly filled. 



A.3Ur jxiu-u 



ALFRED WILLIAMS & CO., 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL 

BOOKSELLERS AND STATIONERS 

No. 19 Fayetteville Street, 

E. ST- O. 



SCHOOL BOOKS A SPECIALTY. 



52 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

We have only time and space to announce that the prize for 
correct answers to the Questions, is won by Miss Phoebe McCul- 
lough, of Spartanburg, S. C. She has our thanks and congratu- 
lations. We will take pleasure in publishing her answers in 
September. 

The visitors we have had the pleasure of bidding welcome to 
St. Mary's during the past month are "legion." The Clergy of 
the Diocese, in passing to and from the Convention in Winston, 



During service on the last Sunday of the school year, Mr. 
Smedes read the following report of alms and contributions, and 
their disbursement during the session : 

To Diocesan Missions, $10; Bishops' Salaries, $30; Aldert 
Smedes Scholarship in Miss Nelson's School, Shanghai, $40; 
St. John's Hospital, Raleigh, $76; The Poor of Raleigh, $21; 
Mission Church at Franklin, N. C, $4.70; Church at Hickory, 
$8; Mexican Mission, $6.75; Various churches in North Caro- 
lina and Virginia, $11. Total, $206.45. 

A large proportion of this was contributed by the Missionary 
Sewing Society of the School, and by Mite Chest collections in 
the different Bible classes 



NEW AND SECOND HAND 

PIANOS FOB SALE 



On the Most Reasonable Terms. 



S.^X're^'A.OXlOiST ®>WJk^JklW£££SO. 



New Pianos, fully warranted, $225 and upwards. 
Specifications furnished for Church and Chapel Organs of any size. 
All kinds of Sheet Music furnished wholesale and retail. 
Parties wishing anything in the musical line should write for our terms 
before purchasing. 

ST. MART'S SCHOOL, 
Department of Music, 



EDWARD J. HARDIN, 
GROCEK, 

DEALER IN 

Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters and Groceries 
and Provisions generally. 

Fayetteville Street, JRaleigh, JV". C 



ALFRED WILLIAMS. 



E. G. HARRELL. 



ALFRED WILLIAMS & CO., 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL 

BOOKSELLERS AND STATIONERS, 

No. 19 Fayetteville Street, 



C Sf- o. 



SCHOOL BOOKS A SPECIALTY, 



XI A. X. EL X & £C , Sf. C 

(Founded 1842.) 



THE REV. BENNETT SMEDES, A. M., 

RECTOR AND PRINCIPAL. 

MRS. C. DeR. MEARES, 

LADY PRINCIPAL. 

This School now offers inducements such as have never before been afforded 
by any school in the South. 

In addition to its acknowledged PRE-EMINENCE in point of LOCATION, 
REFINING INFLUENCES, and CHARACTER of pupils, the special advantages 
claimed are : 

1st. A Corps of Twelve Teachers, carefully selected, with a view to 
fitness for their respective positions, and therefore thorough, efficient and 
enthusiastic in their work. 

2nd. A School of Languages, with eight teachers. 

English is regarded as of the first importance, and receives special attention 
in two comprehensive and thorough courses, Preparatory and Academic. 

Latin, by a graduate of the University of Virginia. 

French, after Sauveur's conversational method, by a French lady whose 
ability is best shown by the results of her teaching. 

German scholars have the advantage of conversation and reading with a 
highly educated native German. 

3rd. The Best Equipped Musical Department in the South, consisting 
of 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, a magnificent new pipe organ of 2 manuals and 
20 stops — the largest for school purposes in the United States— and the only 
PEDAL PIANO south of New York. Eugene Thayer, the finest pedal player in 
this country, recommends its use as the only way to acquire correct pedalling. 

4th. The use of Music of the Highest Order, as shown by the pro- 
grammes of the monthly Recitals. 

5th. A Vocal Teacher, from the Koyal Leipzig Conservatory. This 
lady possesses a beautiful soprano voice, thoroughly developed. As a proof 
of her superior cultivation, it is only necessary to state that she has sung 
in the world-renowned Gewandhaus concerts. 

6th. An Art Department, lately refitted with the best models from 
Europe, and under the charge of a teacher from Cooper Institute, who has 
had the additional advantage of constant study and practice under one of our 
finest artists. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. Mary's in 

EVERY DEPARTMENT shall be UNSURPASSED. 

The 76th Term begins Friday, January 30th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars, address the Rector. 



ST. MART'S SCHOOL, 

BALEIGH, K C. 



The Department of Music offers great inducements to young ladies wishing 
to obtain a thorough knowledge of music in all its branches. In order to 
meet the requirements of advanced organ instruction, a fine new PIPE ORGAN 
of TWO MANUALS andTWENTY STOPS has been placed in the Chapel, and 
the only Pedal Piano South of New York is at the service of organ students. 
A vocalist from the Eoyal Leipzig Conservatory has been added to the corps 
of teachers, and no pains or expense will be spared to make this the first 
musical school in the South. 

Persons outside of the School can make arrangements for either Piano, 
Organ or Vocal Lessons by applying to the Director of Music. 

THE SOUTH-ATLANTIC, 

A MONTHLY MAGAZINE OF 

LITERATURE, SCIENCE AND ART, 
PAUL H. HAYIME, - - - - Editorial Contributor. 

Subscription one year $3. Single Copy 30c. 



ADVERTISING TERMS: 



1 page, one year, $120 

\ " " 75 

i " " 50 

i " " 36 



1 page, one insertion, $25 

J " " " 15 

k " " " 10 

I " " " 5 



B^** Advertisements on cover pages are charged 50 per cent, additional. 
Persons who order specimen copies must enclose 30 cents. 

Address 

MRS. CICERO W. HARRIS, 

Editor and Proprietor, 

WILMINGTON, INT. C. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, October, 1880. No. 2. 



" THE WITCH OF THE NEUSE." 

A CENTENNIAL STORY IN VERSE. 

CONTINUED. 

CAJSTTO X. 
THE CHASE. 

Light breaks on the Trent as it flows gently on, 
The morning breeze freshens as echoes the horn 
Along the calm shore ; the hounds in full cry, 
Dash on as the hunters right gallantly fly 
On their brave mettled steeds treading lightly on air. 
And scorning their weight on the gross earth to bear. 
And now the rose-curtains arise, and Apollo 
Looks out on the chase with delight as the halloo 
Of triumph rebounds and the stag is at bay : 
The hunters spring forward, the conquer'd to slay, 
Beneath his bright gaze the ready steel gleaming, 
Descends like a flash and the life-blood is streaming 
From the brave antler' d hero, who falls with a sigh, 
And yields like a king to his dire destiny. 
Beneath the thick shade of a cypress there stands 
A beauteous white palfrey, control'd by fair hands 
Of a kind, gentle maiden, whose eye could not brook 
On the down-fall or death of the noble to look. 
Beside her a youth of scarce twelve summers rides, 
While the fate of the stag her good brother decides ; 
And that doting brother! ah ! little thought he, 
In that moment of triumph, his darling Annie 



■2 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Was seized, and by ruffianly hands, borne away, 

And whither? ah! whither? — none knew nor could say. 

Grief filled the proud hearts of the Bryans that day, 

Grief withered the fond mother's heart in that hour, 
Grief bent the proud form of the father — and say — 

Ah ! say, did not grief the rash brother o'erpower. 

CAPTIVITY. 

No tears or entreaties could Ferguson move ; 

No suffering or grief did his iron heart heed ; 
While swiftly behind him flew forest and grove, 

For the white steed was reined to the top of her speed. 
At last, on the gloomy " King's Mountain " they rested, 

And here the lorn maiden in sorrow reclined 
On a bed of fern leaves, alone, unmolested, 

In grief and despair for three gloomy days pined. 
At last, came all clad in his best, the marauder, 

With smiles of a friend the fair captive address'd, 
With offers of love and a stern oath to guard her 

Through life, as a brave man, of power possess'd. 
In vain did he call up his comeliest smile, 
In vain did he seek the fair maid to beguile, 
In vain he displayed his fine soldier-like form, 
In vain with fierce fury and rage did he storm. 
The timid one, lonely and powerless though she, 
Threw back his fierce glance with proud dignity. 
" I fear thee not, traitor," the heroine cried, 
" Though I know my sad fate thou canst quickly decide ; 
" Here! pierce this calm bosom, 'tis the boon that I claim, 
" Ere child of my father take Ferguson's name." 
And now, as a serpent, his doomed victim eyes, 
Fierce Ferguson on his imprisoned one glares ; 
Thus spake he: "Proud woman, thy doomed lover dies, 
" My victim this hour thy captivity shares." 
" Bethink thee, fair maiden, three days shalt thou have ; 
" On the fourth thou must wed me, thy lover to save ; 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

" Dost see yon tall pine? It shall kindle fierce flames 
"To consume the poor lad that thy faithfulness claims/' 
He vanished, and Annie in grief and dispair, 
Bent lowly in humble and agonized prayer. 

Ah ! weep for the gentle, the heroic girl, 

Encompass'd with hardships, with pitiless foes; 
No arm on the outlaw swift vengeance to hurl, 

While still his base yearnings he daringly shows. 
No deliverance comes and the victim must die ; 
In the fangs of the wolf does he powerless lie. 
Ah ! now was the maiden's firm trust placed on high, 
She cared not to live and she gladly would die ; 
In the arms of the Mighty her trust was reposed, 
In the armor of Heaven her strength was inclosed, 
For her lover's deliverance she ardently sighed, 
For him she would gladly have suffered and died. 
Ah ! little he knew that his Annie would look 
On a death which far mightier energies shook. 
For the demon marauder had Annie decreed 
To watch the fierce flames on her loved soldier feed. 

At midnight the heart-stricken maid wept aloud, 

As the pine 'neath the wood-cutters' sharp axes bow'd ; 

On her knees, in deep agony franticly pray'd, 

That the hand of the cruel might quickly be stay'd. 

That his heart might be soften'd and sweet mercy know, 

That heaven might on him like mercy bestow. 

CONSOLATION. 

Hark ! comes a soft whisper — the oil'd hinges move — 

Advances a form, and in accents of love, 

Assures and consoles in overpowering grief 

The beauteous Annie. The visit though brief 

Was balm to the wounds that none earthly could know, 

Save she that had bow'd to like terrible blow. 



4 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

"Thou dear angel child/' (whisper'd Ula) "arise, 

" Nor scorn my poor Avords nor my comfort despise. 

" Glad tidings I bring thee; a patriot band 

" Shall arrive ere is led out thy lover to stand 

" 'Neath the terrible stake his captor has driven 

" Fast in the earth, where his victims have striven, 

"Amid the fierce flames of the fire-mad'ning pine, 

" Nor long shall thy demon thy freedom confine. 

" Then wearied one, rest thee in trustful repose ; 

" Thy enemy dies ere the blue cups unclose 

"Of the gay morning-glory, and glad Ula sings 

" As the warm blood aloft from his drained arteries spring.' 

Thus spoke she and vanished, the Witch of the Neuse, 

While still the deliv'rance she watchful pursues, 

Of her heart's cherished darling — the fair angel child, 

Whose charity on her lorn widowhood smiled. 

TEMPTATION. 

At day's early dawn, ere the sun's cheering ray 

Had lighten'd the tiny loop-holes iu the wall 
Of the prison of rocks where the fair Annie lay 

Fast asleep in her innocence. When a foot-fall 
At the door w r akes in terror the desolate maid. 

Tho' wretched, her beauty enchantingly shone, 
And angelic radiance her fair form array'd, 

And beamed from her eyes as she stood all alone. 
All alone and defenceless, to dim mortals view, 
Though heaven around her its solaces threw ; 
And the arm of the Mighty to mortal unseen, 
Her form and fierce Ferguson's hand was between. 
" Look forth !" cried the murderer ; " yon coward behold ! 
" Thy boy-lover writhes in the chains thou hast wound 
"Round his poor puny limbs; fair maid, thou'rt cold 
" To the cries that must soon on thy timid ear sound. 
" O ! where is the love that but yesterday even, 
" Was vow'd to yon youth ? who will soon be in heaven, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

"Or sink where the manes of the faithless are driven. 

" O ! where is thy pity ? has the stone of this case 

"Grown into thy heart? and no effort to save 

" Thy gentle admirer from thy gentleness come, 

"In time to bid silent the death warning drum? 

" Then speak but one word : Carolina shall claim 

" Another defender of honour and fame, 

" At once his fleet charger shall bear him away 

" To join his bold comrades in battle array; 

" While the man that adores thee, with rapture will vow 

"To shield with his life, from a shadow thy brow." 



ca.3stxo xi. 
Battle of King's Mountain. 

the attack. 

One glance from the loop-hole ! her spirit was crushed, 

The life-current through the pressed arteries rushed, 

Like a torrent repulsed, it flows back again 

To its source and the life-blood leaves every vein. 

She falls, as a dimness her blue orbs enclose, 

The anguish all impulse of living had froze. 

As he looked on, dismay'd, fierce Ferguson's ear 

Caught a sound that his heart filled with anguish and fear. 

The trump, the loud drum and the shouts of the foe, 

The rocks and the woods his false heart echo'd through, 

Quick he sprang through the opening, and must'ring his men 

To repulse the invaders, forgot that the den 

That confined his fair captive unguarded was now, 

While the wrath of the demon o'ershadow'd his brow. 



6 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

His shrill whistle* sounded through cavern and glen, 

And forth came all armed his stout, resolute men. 

At their head the bold leader confronted the foe, 

And with bayonets drove them the mountain below ; 

Americans now up the mountain advance — 

The enemy's piquets driven in and the lance 

Of tierce Ferguson breaks ere his charger could turn, 

Or needful discretion the rash leader learn. 

To his rescue came thundering his trained men and true, 

Now fiercer and thicker the dread conflict grew ; 

Around him fell faster bold Ferguson's men, 

Tho' his whistle still cheered them from rock and from glen. 

" On ! on I" was his shout, as he furiously flew ; 

" On ! on \" my brave men, quit ye valiant and true !" 

But no brav'ry or daring their destiny turned, 

Their cries to surrender, fierce Ferguson spurned. 

And now (like the brave little column of Daves, 

Surrounded by Ferguson's merciless Braves,) 

Surrounded was he with his brave men and tried, 

Who had fought with him long and now with him died. 

As Ferguson fell a shout echo'd long; 

Then streamed down the mountain a maniac song : 

Xow glad flew the singer, his requiem to chant, 

And over his corse the proud hero to taunt. 

And she yell'd with delight as the blood spouted high 

From the wound that had caused the dread ruffian to die. 

As fled the fierce chief from the dark rocky cave, 
Where fell lovely Annie, as cold for the grave, 
The Witch of the Neuse in all gentleness came, 
And sought with appliances back to reclaim 
To life and delight from her joyless sleep 
The beauteous Annie, whose heart should now leap 
With rapture unspeakable. As she awoke, 
On her sight a bright vision enchantingly broke. 



*Ferguson summoned and urged on his men with a shrill silver whistle 
before and in the midst of battle. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 7 

Her lover beside her, with joy beaming eyes, 

Invites back the blush as it fitfully flies. 

All radiant with bliss which he dare scarcely claim, 

As he rapturously calls on his loved Annie's name. 

" Arouse thee ! sweet angel," the gipsy now screamed, 

While she laughed 'till the tears from her murky eyes streamed. 

Now dancing, she flew down the mountain with glee, 

And sang the death song of the fall'n enemy. 

Now clasped in the arms of her lover, the maiden 
Was blest beyond all that she dared ever hope, 

And light was the heart that with stern sorrow laden 
Had sunk as still widen'd foul cruelty's scope. 

On her brother she looks too, with rapturous delight, 

As his brilliant accoutrements dazzle her sight, 

And sweet was the thought that his bravery had won 

Her rescue from woes that a solace had none. 

And now her white palfrey fair Annie beholds, 

And in her glad hands the silken rein holds ; 

The jennet the while licks her beautiful hand, 

And prances with pride as the cold breezes fan 

Her long flowing mane; and she arches her neck 

And moves upon air at her mistress' beck. 

Then away the glad trio in thankfulness fly, 

For the arm of the Mighty had saved from on high. 

RETURN. 

Once more gentle Annie her peaceful home blesses, 
Once more she returns to her parents' caresses, 
Once more her dear birds and sweet flowers are hers, 
Once more gentle pity her noble breast stirs, 
Once more the lone widow her bounty receives, 
Once more with the sorrowful, sweet Annie grieves. 
She weeps with the sad, as the angels in heaven, 
And smiles, as a joy to the needy is given. 
Bright happiness now o'er her dwelling presides, 
As the loved of her heart with her ever abides. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



ULAS SONG OF TRIUMPH. 



Now dance we merrily, 

Dance we long, 

Dance we 'round the holly tree, 

Dance with the dancing bridal throng, 

Dance to the praise of the bright Annie. 

Dance we merrily, dance we long. 

Dance we merrily, 
Dance and sing, 

Dance we 'round the myrtle tree, 
From its glossy berries the wax* we'll bring, 
To lighten the bridal of sweet Annie. 
Dance, &c. 

Dance we merrily, 
Dance and fling 

The cypress wreath on the dancing wave, 
And away to ocean's depth swimming, 
Its boding leaves that fright Annie. 
Dance, &c. 

Dance we merrily, 
Dance with glee, 

I saw the blood as it spouted high, 
And so the fiend return' d to his own, 
And will let my beautiful Annie alone. 
Dance, &c. 

■ 
Dance we merrily. 

Dance with joy, 

Dance we round the tall pine tree. 
The light-wood f was piled around the boy, 
But forth flew Ula and set him free. 
Dance, &c. 



*The berries of the myrtle tree yield a species of wax which is made into 
candles in this country. 

fHeart of the pine from which tar and pitch are made. 



.ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Dance we merrily, 
Dance we now, 

Dance we 'round the hawthorn tree, 
For here young lovers do plight their vow, 
And its blossoms are pure, like bright Annie. 
Dance, &c. 

Dance we merrily, 
Dance again, 

Ere Ula is laid in the deep salt sea, 
For then she'll sleep with her dear old man, 
Now that is blest, her sweet Annie. 
Dance we merrily, &c. 



SIR WAITER SCOTT. 



The ducal family of Buccleugh, renowned in the history and 
ballads of the Scotch, has been made more illustrious by the 
literary work of a member of one of its obscurest branches, than 
by all the military exploits of its barons, not excepting the great 
Marquis of Montrose. This member was Walter Scott, the son 
of a notary public of Edinburgh. When quite a boy Scott 
became lame, and being thus rendered incapable of joining in 
active sports, most of his time was spent either in reading or in 
listening to the old Ballads of the Border. And it was proba- 
bly these ballads, which, while they fostered his love of romantic 
story, developed also the desire to become the head of a great 
family. This was the ambition of his life. By it every dream 
and aspiration was colored. In his visions of the future he saw 
himself and his descendants the owners of a large estate, dis- 
pensing hospitality with all the magnificence of the feudal baron. 

This picture grew more vivid as he became confident of his 
genius, which he regarded merely as a means to its realization. 



10 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

A poor ambition, we should say, in a smaller mind; but in a 
man so highly endowed it is a blemish that materially darkens 
an otherwise stainless character. On leaving college Scott stu- 
died law, but soon abandoned that profession for literature. He 
lived at Ashesbel on the Tweed, not far from the famous old 
ruins of Melrose Abbey. This spot was one of peculiar interest 
to him. Near it had been fought one of the last great border 
battles, in which his own ancestors, the Buccleughs, had led the 
Scottish forces. Here were written his poems and his earlier 
prose works. The poems placed him at once at the height of 
popularity. Widely different from anything which had pre- 
ceded them, their novelty, power, beautiful descriptions, and 
faultless rhythm, captivated the popular mind. 

Their popularity still remains, but not the enthusiasm they 
excited. Scott's poems dazzled for the moment by their bril- 
liancy, but no truly poetical mind looks forward to the pecuni- 
ary profits which its works will bring. The greatest poets are 
those who have been not only the truthful painters, but the inter- 
preters of nature; who have held before men the principles 
which should influence their actions, in one word a lofty ideal. 
Real life, with its complex and often faulty motives, furnishes the 
material to the historian and the novelist. It is as a novelist that 
Scott achieved his greatest fame. Strange as it may seem when 
we consider the powerful influence of fiction in the present cen- 
tury, this department of literature was one of the last to be culti- 
vated by English authors. It is scarcely more than a century 
since Mrs. Ann Radcliffe drove sleep from many a pillow, and 
Miss Edgeworth roused the non-resident nobility of Ireland to 
a sense of their duty. Both of these writers had been preceded 
by the great Fielding, Smollett, and others; the tendency of 
whose works was to debase, not to elevate mankind. But Scott 
was the first great novelist who pleased every age and class. He 
is peculiarly great in the management of historical characters and 
events. But while the facts on which his novels are founded are 
in the main correct, yet, carried away by his passion for word 
painting, and sometimes by his prejudices, his representations are 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 11 

not always true to the originals. His novels are by no means 
perfect. It is to be remembered, however, that he was the pio- 
neer in this department. None of his characters are so subtly 
analized as those of Thackery or Bulwer, and his anachronisms 
are often glaring. In Ivanhoe the whole plot of the story turns 
upon incidents which took place at a tournament. But the scene 
of Ivanhoe is laid in the reign of Richard Coeur de Lion, and 
tournaments were not introduced into England until the time of 
Edward the First. But Scott's pictures are so vivid, his de- 
scriptions so beautiful, the whole tone of his works so lofty, that 
he will always hold a high place among English novelists. The 
profits from Scott's works were so enormous that he was able to 
realize his ambition, and build up the magnificent estate of Ab- 
botsford. But scarcely was this accomplished when there came 
the business crash which darkened the last days of his life. The 
failure of the Balantynes left Scott responsible for a vast debt. 
Cheerfully resigning his dreams, he set himself to the work of 
paying it. So arduous was the task, and so perseveringly did 
he pursue it, that mind and body both gave way. His later 
novels bear witness to his declining powers. He himself sus- 
pected this deterioration, and when he had completed the last of 
his works, Count Robert of Paris, he read it aloud to a few of 
his friends; Turning suddenly as he finished the last words, he 
read disappointment in their faces, and burst into tears. Not 
long afterwards he died at Abbotsford. The character of Sir 
Walter Scott is almost perfect. Indeed his one weakness, the 
paltry ambition we have mentioned, serves to show the greatness 
of his character, for it rendered his cheerful submission to his 
reverses all the more remarkable. 

To understand what this submission cost one must recognize 
the dominion the dream of the boy had usurped in the mind of 
the man, and how every faculty was bent on its attainment. And 
it was not so much the mere estate which he desired, as the real- 
ization of an impossible ideal, the revival of the past glories of 
a feudal chieftain, the head of a Scottish clan. Scott's friends 
were almost innumerable ; he was to the literary society of Edin- 



12 ST, MARY'S MUSE. 

burgh what Shakespeare was to that of Queen Elizabeth's day. 
There have been men of profounder intellect, but few who have 
combined so much goodness with their greatness. As an author, 
we may truly say of him that not a line he ever penned could 
do harm. And no higher praise could be bestowed on one who 
wrote so much and so well. 



RIVERS OF THE EAST. 



Famous in song and stoiy are the Rivers of the East, that 
home of our first parents, that cradle of the human race. How 
generations have lived and died upon their banks ! How many 
glorious cities have been reflected in their waters! And how 
many noble deeds and heartfelt prayers have they not witnessed ! 

" Father Nile," — the very name tells his place in the hearts 
of the grateful Egyptians. Indeed the saying is as old as Hero- 
dotus that Egypt is the gift of the Nile. The mystery of his 
origin, coupled with his mighty overflows, now dispensing pros- 
perity, now threatening ruin, invested him in the minds of the 
simple natives with divine dignity. Rising, as recent explora- 
tions have made known, in the beautiful, lily-covered Victoria 
Nyamza, he flows through vast tracts of country, gathering 
store of wealth to pour it all at last upon his favored Egypt, 
once the granary of the world. From his source, where my- 
riads of snowy lotus-blossoms open to the rising sun, we fol- 
low his sluggish, muddy course to the ruins of mighty Thebes 
of the hundred gates — magnificent in decay. Could we but have 
seen in its glory this oldest city of the world ! the grand palaces 
wherein did sit "the dread and fear of kings;" chambers and 
halls whose sculptured wainscotings record the deeds of cen- 
turies; columns and arches carved and cut into serpents, sea- 
dogs, dragons, monsters of every kind known and unknown to 
nature. Now we pass the vast catacombs, the last resting-place 
of many princes and potentates. Cut in the solid rock of the 



.ST. MARY'S MUSE. 13 

mountains that bound the valley of the Nile, they are proof 
against decay. Their painted walls, with colors undiramed by 
time, are the pages whereon we read the thoughts and emotions 
of a by-gone world, so nearly did that world stamp immortality 
on all its works. Lastly, ere we reach the Delta, we pass for 
many a mile those wonderful pyramids which baffle alike the 
curiosity of the idle and the investigations of the wise. But 
heedless of all these things, the Nile flows on, observing duly his 
own times and seasons, as in the days of old. Should we on a 
soft summer night, with the full-orbed moon above, float down 
the arrowy Tigris, what stories would it murmur in our ear? 
There is a low sighing of palm trees in the distance. The even- 
ing breeze brings sweet odors from the lemon-groves, and anon 
music swells out on the air — sweet music of the golden prime of 
good Iiaroun Al Raschid." A moment more, and "Bagdat's 
shrines of fretted gold" burst on our view. The Tigris has 
begun its song of wealth and fame, of power and glory. Bag- 
dad, with its high walled gardens, its light pavilions, its marble 
wharves — Bagdad, with its luxurious merchants who repose on 
embroidered couches, upon whom attend women so fair they 
seem visions, not mortals; — this was the gay queen of cities 
under the Caliphate. Here was gathered the learning of the 
world. The court of Al Mamoun was an academy of sages. 
The tribute he exacted from conquered nations was the produce 
of their brains, not their fields. This, in the Dark Ages, was the 
nursing mother of science. But with this well loved theme, the 
Tigris weaves another of the old capitol of Assyria — Nineveh. 
It tells of walls whereon three chariots drove abreast; of fifteen 
hundred towers that bade defiance to the engines of war. It 
bears us to their foot. Ship your oars and let the keel grate on 
the shining sand. Mount that grand stairway guarded by couch- 
ant lions and eagle-headed human forms. 

This is Sargon's palace, beyond is that of Sennacherib. No 
doors nor windows bar our ingress. Push aside this costly east- 
ern hanging. A glimpse within shows us polished inlaid floors 
and gorgeous frescoed ceilings — a lavish use of art in every 



14 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

form. But these walls bear no record of the homely daily life, 
as those of Egypt; they give us vivid pictures of the kings in 
war and victory, exacting tribute, or receiving worship. It is 
but a vision. That life was too gay and wanton to endure, and 
the mighty city is buried beneath the sands of ages. Let us 
hasten away. 

We are in the canal which opens into the Euphrates ; now we 
have reached the wonderful river, and what thoughts arise! It 
may be that on these banks have bloomed the flowers of Para- 
dise; that these waters once nourished the fatal tree. We know 
that on its banks was reared that tower which was to have 
reached heaven. Here is the site of magnificent Babylon. Shall 
we see its square towers and walls, its massive brazen gates, and, 
rising from the centre of the city, the rich temple of Belus, from 
whose summit the old Chaldeans watched the stars? Shall we 
behold tier upon tier of airy arches showing like curving clouds 
against the eastern sky? Where are the gardens that bloomed 
upon their summit, the lofty palms, the choice flowers of the 
world? There the cedars of Lebanon lifted their stately heads, 
while in their branches the little birds sang and builded nests. 
There too, as evening fell, the merry crowds passed up the broad 
terraces to the gay sound of music. No; none of these things 
are here. For a night of horror came when just such sounds 
of revelry were floating in the air; when the dark nobles round 
Belshazzar's board were making the very roof ring with their 
shouts; when the mysterious handwriting appeared on the wall, 
while the great river, so long the city's safeguard, was yielding 
an entrance to the foe. On that terrible scene of slaughter we 
will not look; but leaving the proud ruined city on the banks 
of its silently flowing river we will seek under the copper sky 
of India her sacred stream. 

The source of the mighty Ganges is lost among the eternal 
snows of the Himalayas. The goddess Ganga leaped from the 
foot of A^ishna's throne, bringing with her all the tribes of the 
animal world to bless her favored people. It is to the Ganges, 
therefore, that the Hindoo addresses his most earnest prayers, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 15 

and to its keeping he delivers all that he holds most precious, 
his children and his dead. By its sacred waters he swears his 
most solemn oaths. To-day on its banks we hear the bustle of 
life and trade; while yet a remnant of the old superstition re- 
mains in the numberless brilliant tapers that float at night on 
the river, watched anxiously by the pretty Hindoo maidens, who 
test their lovers' faith by the fate of its tiny symbol. 

But there is another river of the East which has surpassing 
interest. It is the sacred river of Palestine. Rising under the 
lofty snow-capped peaks of Anti-Libanus, the Jordan rushes 
southward over its rocky bed, plunging in its course over dan- 
gerous rapids, and dashing often from side to side as though it 
would break through the barriers of rock that form its shores. 
Then again it winds quietly through the beautiful lake of Tiberias, 
and ends silently in the Dead Sea. On its banks, overgrown 
with thickets and reeds, wild beasts have their lairs. The wil- 
lows, swayed by the gentle breeze, dip their long branches in its 
cool waters, while the oleanders send their sweet fragrance 
through the air. It was the Jordan that greeted the eye of the 
Israelites after their weary wanderings. Here sounded the cry 
of the Baptist summoning to repentance; and here the sinless 
Lord Himself came to be baptized. 

O, favored eastern land, where the King of Light and Glory 
in human form walked and suffered, where man was made a liv- 
ing soul and tasted, in the purity and innocence of the young 
world, the joys of Paradise! If we may not tread those sacred 
paths and see that hallowed stream, may we one day stand by 
the waters of the river of life which flows by the throne of God. 



16 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



BLIND. 



A TALE — TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER V— (Continued.) 

Suddenly and unannounced, he came on Whitsunday-eve on 
foot ; a full grown man, with rosy cheeks, and unwearied by the 
long march from early dawn. 

He entered the quiet dwelling where his mother sat alone, for 
it was the Saturday before the festival. With a cry of joy the 
delighted mother hung round his neck. " You," she cried, and 
then calming herself, she took a step backward and measured the 
wanderer with an earnest and loving glance. " You have at last 
come back, you wicked and ungrateful boy ! So you actually 
still remember the way home to your father and mother ! God 
be praised! I thought you must have made up your mind not 
to come back until you were a professor ; and then perhaps my 
old eyes would never more on earth have looked lovingly at you. 
But I shall not scold you ; you are good, you are as you used to 
be, and you will make for us a Whitsunday such as we have not 
seen for many a long day !" 

" Mother," he said, how very happy I am to be with you again ! 
I could no longer struggle against the feeling ; I do not myself 
know how it happened ; it does not even seem as if I decided for 
myself. But one beautiful morning, instead of going into the 
college, I went out of the gate, and ran away as if I were run- 
ning from a sin. Day after day I walked ; more than I had 
ever done even in my best walking days. Where is my father? 
and where is Marlina?" 

"Do you not hear your father ?" said his mother. " He is up 
stairs in his study." They could hear the old man treading to 
and fro. " It is just as it used to be," said his mother, " that 
has been his Saturday walk for twenty years past ; ever since I 
first knew him. Marlina is in the fields with our people. I 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 17 

sent her away because she worried me. When she is in the 
house she is almost pleased to see me sit in the corner and fold my 
hands ; she wants to do everything herself. Now we have new 
servants, and I am very glad to have her overlook them until 
they have become accustomed to our ways. How astonished 
they all will be to find you here ! But come, I must take you 
to your father, and let him have a look at you ; it will soon be 
dinner time besides. Come, it will not vex him for you to dis- 
turb him." 

Treading softly, and with her hand clasped in his, she led her 
son up the stairs. She opened the door gently, and beckoning to 
Clement, she stepped back and made him precede her into the 
room. " Here he is \" she cried, " now you have him !" The 
old man seemed still buried in deep thought. " Whom ?" he 
asked dreamily. Then he looked into his son's face lightened by 
the glow of the sun. He stretched out his hands heartily. 
" Clement !" he cried, between surprise and joy, "you here !" "I 
shall remain until the Feast is passed if there is room for me, 
now that Marlina lives under your roof." 

" How can you speak so ? said his mother, quickly. " If I 
had seven sons I could find room for them. But I shall leave 
you with your father, and go into the kitchen and garden ; 
they have pampered your appetite so much that you will be hard 
to please." 

She went out and left the father and son standing silently 
opposite each other. 

" I have disturbed you," Clement said finally ; " you were 
preparing your sermon. Tell me whether I shall go or not." 

"You cannot disturb one who has already disturbed himself. 
Since early morning I have walked back and forth, my text in 
my thoughts, but grace was not with me, and the first words are 
not yet written. I have been strangely affected of late — some- 
times a chill which I cannot shake offtakes possession of me." 
He walked to the little window which overlooked the church. 
The path which led to it was through the grave-yard, which lay 
still and calm, with shining crosses. " Come here, Clement," 



18 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

the old man said softly. Stand by me. Do you see that grave 
to the left, covered with primroses and monthly blossoms ? You 
have never seen it before ; do you know who sleeps there ? My 
good old friend, Marlina's father." He left the window, at which 
Clement still stood as though rooted to the spot. Again he 
walked up and down the room ; and while they remained silent 
they could hear the sand crackle under his feet. 

" Yes," said the old man with a deep sigh, " no one knew him 
as I did ; no one had in him what I had ; and no one has lost in 
him what I have. What did he know of the world and its wis- 
dom — which is foolishness before God ! What he knew came to 
him from within ; from the Bible, and through suffering. He 
has become happy, because he was good and blessed." After a 
pause he continued, " Whom have I now to shame me when I 
grow proud ? to save me when my faith wavers ? and to explain 
the thoughts which accuse and excuse ? The world around me 
is getting so clever. What I hear, I do not understand ; what 
I read I will not understand, for it would be to my soul's hurt. 
How many arise and intend to speak with the tongue, and be- 
hold, it is less work ! and the mockers hear it and rejoice. My 
old friend, would I were where you are !" 
[to be continued.] 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 19 



"BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM." 



It has been suggested that a series of articles giving an account 
of the various charitable and church works in which some of the 
former pupils of St. Mary's have been or are now conspicuously en- 
gaged, might prove to be exceedingly interesting to many readers 
of the Muse. We can speak only of those whose work has been 
conspicuous ; because to tell of all that has been done in thousands 
of fields for Christ's church and for His poor, by the children of 
St. Mary's, would be simply impossible. The time will come 
when we shall hear of scores of churches which would never 
have gladdened the waste places of Zion but for the personal 
efforts of one ; of many a mission which languished until the 
hopeful spirit and helpful hand of another came to the rescue ; 
of hundreds of poor who were fed, of naked who were clothed, 
of sick and suffering ones who were ministered unto by women 
who were trained at St. Mary's. 

Their story can never be summed up until the great day when 
" the works of all men shall be made manifest." We feel the 
deepest interest in all this aggregate of good works, and our 
hearts burn to " go and do likewise," when our time and oppor- 
tunity shall come. But there are some of our predecessors to 
whom it has been given to stand pre-eminent in the supreme 
devotion of their lives to some great and noble cause; in the 
vastness of their field of labor, or in the wonderful success which 
has blessed their work, and so brought them prominently before 
their own communities and to the notice of the Church at large. 

Such has been conspicuously the case with Mrs. Buford (Pat- 
tie Hicks), whose wonderful mission among the ignorant and des- 
titute negroes of her neighborhood, seems one of the miracles of 
missionary work. We hope ere long to give an account of how 
this work of the Lord grew upon her hands, and has mightily 
prevailed to the saving of many souls. 

Then the work of Sr. Cecilea (Celia Foster) at St. James' 



20 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Home, Wilmington, has additional interest, as being the first 
organized deaconess' work in our own Diocese. She being the first 
North Carolinian to consecrate her life to the work of the Church. 

Sister Roberta, in charge of " The Children's Home," at New 
Orleans, is another old St. Maryite, and did faithful and efficient 
work during the yellow fever epidemic of '78. 

AndtheDabney Sisters of Dry Grove, Miss., who by more than 
one tie are closely associated with St. Mary's, have been abun- 
dant in good works. Their almost unaided efforts established 
the well-known " Training School for Divinity Students," which 
has furnished Bishop Green many a faithful recruit for his band 
of ministers. They, too, nobly bore their part in the dark days 
of '78, taking their lives in their hands and comforting many a 
poor soul as it passed through the valley of the shadow of death. 

Then our dear old teachers must not be forgotten. Miss Julia 
Gregg, the Bishop's sister, after leaving St. Mary's, spent ten 
years as a missionary in Africa. Miss Evertson became " Sister 
Eliza," of the Mobile Deaconesses, and did good and true work 
at the church school and orphauage in that city, and died there 
some three years ago, purified by a life of constant physical suf- 
fering and of noble self-sacrifice and usefulness. 

" Eleanor Clement," whose name is still a beloved household 
word, has not only distinguished herself as an educator of young 
girls, but the mission field at home and abroad can show many a 
fair and fruitful tree of her planting, while the " Teacher's 
Rest," that lovely retreat for weary teachers on the beautiful 
banks of the Hudson, tells of her affectionate sympathy for the 
needs of her associates in the educational cause. 

Another, whose memory is still cherished among us, has lately 
entered upon a new chapter of her life which must needs be 
brought constantly before us. " Nellie Cole," of Nashotah, has 
become the wife of a young missionary to Japan, the Rev. Mr. 
McKim. A letter from her has been received by a member of 
our family, and at the risk of incurring her displeasure for pub- 
lishing what she only intended for the partial eye of a friend, we 
venture to print the letter as an opportune and fitting initial for 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 21 

our proposed " series." We hope that she will prove her readi- 
ness to forgive the offence (?) by following up this letter with a 
succession of others, telling of her life and work in that far off 
land of the " Rising Sun." We shall follow her with great in- 
terest, and perhaps find through her an appropriate channel for 
some of our Mite-Chest collections. 

There are doubtless others among our Alumnae whose labors of 
love are not so well known to us, but we will be glad to hear of 
them and from them all that may be profitable to us for instruc- 
tion and" for example. And truly, it is not for the glorification 
of those who are only " doing their duty in that state of life 
into which God has called them," nor to drag into an uncon- 
genial and unenvied publicity the life and works of these Chris- 
tian women, but only that we may see their light and learn there- 
by to glorify God in our day and generation. 

But to our letter : 

No. 6, Concession, Osaka, Japan, 1 
June 9th, 1880. j 

My Deae Miss Steela : — I received your letter written me 
just before I left home, while I was busy preparing for the long 
journey. 

We left Nashotah on the 19th of January, spent a week with 
Mr. McKim's relations in Illinois, one day with his sister in 
Nebraska, and reached San Francisco three days before the time 
of sailing. I was unfortunate enough to take a severe cold on 
the way west, and was quite ill while in San Francisco, and on 
the ocean I suffered nearly all the time from my cold and sea- 
sickness. Mr. McKim was sea-sick also, and we were both 
glad to leave the steamer when we reached Yokohama, as we did 
on the 1st of March. We intended coming on to Osaka on the 
3d, but Mr. and Mrs. Blanchet, missionaries in Tokio, urged us 
to stay a week with them, and so we went to Tokio, an hour's 
ride by rail from Yokohama. By the end of the week I was ill, 
and the physician whom we called in, advised us to wait a mouth 
before taking the journey to Osaka, for although it is a short 
voyage it is often very rough. Mr. and Mrs. Blanchet very 



22 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

kindly invited us to remain with them, and so we stayed until 
the 7th of April. On that day we left for Osaka, accompanied 
by two servants, whom we engaged while in Tokio — a man and 
his wife. On the 9th we landed at Kobe, whence an hour's ride 
on the cars brought us to Osaka. We stayed for three days with 
Mr. Morris and Dr. Laning — two bachelor missionaries, who 
keep house together, and then, according to an agreement partly 
made previously by letter, and completed after our arrival, we 
took possession of a portion of this house. Fortunately it is a 
large one, so that a portion is all we require. The other part is 
occupied by Miss Eddy and her school. We have a dining-room 
downstairs, and two bed-rooms, a parlor and study upstairs — 
besides some closets. Our kitchen and servants' quarters are in 
a separate building, as at the South, only we do not carry our hot 
cakes quite as far as they did at St. Mary's. We found the 
house pretty well supplied with furniture, for which we have 
reason to be thankful, as it is very difficult to get any furniture 
here, and it would have taken us a long time to accumulate what 
we found here. Our servants proved to be very satisfactory. 
The man is quite a good cook, and the woman, a very good 
maid. We enjoy housekeeping, and I feel much better since we 
came here, although not very strong. Our house is delightfully 
situated by the river, with only a broad, shady street between us 
and it. On one side, beyond some vacant lots, is another river; 
on the other, beyond one vacant lot, is the house of Rev. Mr. 
Erington, an English missionary, and at the back a good sized 
yard between the house and another broad street. On two sides 
we see the mountains in the distance. We have a two-story 
verandah on the sides of the house, which is very pleasant. 

Mr. McKim is not able to do much work beyond the study of 
the language, which is very difficult. He teaches an hour a day 
in Mr. Tyng's boys' school, has a Bible-class twice a week, and 
reads service twice a day in Miss Eddy's girl school. I am not 
attempting any missionary work at all. I have two music pupils 
from Miss Eddy's school, one eight years of age, the other nine. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 23 

They are nice little girls, and learn very rapidly. They seem to 
be very fond of music and to enjoy practising. 

Japanese music is very strange. They have odd-looking and 
odd-sounding instruments. The favorite one, called the Samosen, 
is a little like a guitar. They sing through their noses generally, 
and I can seldom distinguish anything like a tune. The people 
are more utterly different from us than you can imagine. Their 
appearance, dress, food, manners, cooking, sleeping — everything 
different. By sleeping differently, I mean their beds are differ- 
ent. They have a kind of padded matting on their floors, and their 
beds consist of futones (very thick comfortables), which are spread 
on the floor at night, and put away in closets by day. They 
have also an oddly shaped wooden block for a pillow. 

I cannot write any more to you just now, but I will answer 
your next letter as promptly as I can. * * * * 

With much love, yours as ever, 

Nellie C. McKim. 



A STORY OF THE PRINCE IMPERIAL. 



About fifteen years ago, when the Second Empire was in the 
heyday of its prosperity, a great commotion occurred one day at 
the Palace of the Tuileries. The Prince Imperial was missing. 
His tutor, M. Monnier; his valet, Uhlmann; his equerry, M. 
Bachon, might have been observed tearing down the terrace 
which skirts the Quai du Louvre, followed by young Louis Con- 
neau, the Prince's playmate. Young Conneau appeared ready 
to cry ; and the three officials above-named seemed disposed to 
hold him responsible for the mishap which they dreaded, for 
every now and then they turned round gesticulating, and sharply 
repeated the question, ' Where did you see him last?' It was 
about 10 o'clock on a summer morning, and the public part of 
the Tuileries gardens was already crowded with nursemaids and 



24 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

children. Some other walkers were abroad too, inhalino- the 
tonic of Parisian June air, and several of these, noticing the 
goings to and fro of the persons on the terrace, stopped and stared, 
imagining that some court-dog must have played the truant. It 
would have given them an electrical sensation if they could have 
guessed that it was the heir to the thrown who was being sought 
for among the rhododendrons and lilac bushes. This little bit 
of news, retailed by them in cafes — as it would have been very 
speedily — would have been enough to occasion a heavy fall in 
rentes and to have spread a panic on the Bourse that afternoon. 
The Prince's tutor, equerry, and valet knew this but too well; 
and so did young Conneau, whose youthful mind had long ago 
opened to the comprehension that his Imperial playmate was not 
a boy like others. Guards surrounded him ; all his steps were 
watched ; he could not wander out of the sight of those appointed 
to keep their eyes on him without raising an amount of fuss of 
which Conneau himself always suffered rather more than the 
Prince did. The functions of whipping-boy had happily been 
abolished before Louis Conneau's time ; but whenever the Prince 
did anything amiss, it was Conneau who was held blameworthy. 
He was told that he ought to set a better example, that he ought 
not to lead His Imperial Highness astray ; that he was a boy who 
enjoyed great hon.ours and had consequently big duties, all of 
which sayings Conneau bore with an air of outward penitence but 
with inward mutiny. Now, this much-lectured youth happened 
to know that the Prince Imperial chafed .considerably under the 
tutelage in which he was held, and had long cherished the ambi- 
tion of going forth and having a long day's spree by himself in 
the streets of Paris. There was a certain fried-potato stall 
where H.I.H. had said he should like to regale himself incognito, 
and he much wished to go and mix with the herds of boys w T hom 
he had seen streaming out of the Lycees towards four in the 
afternoon, and to join in some of those delightful combats which 
they waged among themselves with their dictionaries and 
satchels. Too generous to drag his comrade into a scrape, the 
Prince had never asked Conneau to join him in an escapade; but 



ST. JIAR Y y 8 MUSE. 25 

he had solemnly warned him that on the occasion when he 
should catch M. Monnier napping, the officer on guard dozing, 
and the sentry at the garden-gate looking stupid on his post, he 
should avail himself of this combination of circumstances, and 
be off. Louis Conneau had treated this confidence as sacred, 
but he had used the voice of wisdom to persuade the Prince that 
there were just as good fried potatoes to be had at the Tuileries as 
at the corner of the Rue St.-Honore ; and that eating these delica- 
cies with one's fingers out of a piece of greasy yellow paper con- 
stituted no such treatment as H.I.H. fancied. However, the 
Prince seemed now to have disregarded the advice, and Con- 
neau, harried by questions, was at last fain to own that he 
thought His Highness and gone out for a bit of fun. 

' Fun !' yelled M. Monnier, lifting his arms in desperation ; 
- does he think it's fun to make us run about after him in this 
fashion! Where has he gone? Tell us at once if you know.' 

' Perhaps he has gone to buy two sous' worth of potatoes/ 
suggested young Conneau timidly. It was a hazardous statement 
to make, for the three officials glared at him, as if they thought 
a jest would be most unseasonable at such a moment. 

' Potatoes !' echoed the erudit M. Monnier. * Why, he only 
breakfasted an hour ago.' 

' Boys are often ready for two breakfasts,' remarked M. 
Bachon,' the equerry, luminously. 

" That's not the question," cried the tutor, retracing his steps, 
and walking rapidly back towards the palace. 'You must lead 
us to the potato shop, Conneau, if you know where it is. Quick ! 
come, now, I take it for granted you are not misleading us.' 

' I can't affirm he has gone for potatoes,' whined Conneau, 
feeling the conjecture was serious. ' Perhaps he has gone to 
have a fight with the Lycee boys.' 

'MeinGott! a fight m it vav/riem !' exclaimed Uhlmann, his 
honest Alsatian face turning to the colour of beetroot. 

' Not a word more,' gasped M. Monnier, for they were nearing 
a sentry, and observed the captain of the guard standing on the 
steps of the Pavilion de Flore and sniffing the air, as it he smelt 
4 



26 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

« 

something in the wind. 'Come along, come along : we must 
keep this from the Emperor ; he would become ill from alarm.' 

' And from the Empress/ whispered M. Bachon, who feared 
that Her Majesty's wrath might possibly not manifest itself in 
silent prostration. 

It was a great responsibility that the party were assuming in 
conceiling the Prince's disappearance from the Emperor ; for 
there was a standing order at Court that if anything happened 
to the Prince, His Majesty was to be informed of it without 
delay, and that the Prefect of Police was to be telegraphed for. 
It was just possible that the Prince might have been kidnapped ; 
and under these circumstances it was of the utmost importance 
that the Prefect should be warned at once, in order that the 
entire brigade of the secret police might be thrown out over the 
capital like a huge net closing its meshes over all the railway 
stations and the gates which lead out of Paris. The truth is, 
though, that the persons who were hunting for Napoleon's heir 
dreaded to be called sharply to task for dereliction of duty in 
suffering their precious charge to slip out unobserved ; and they 
hoped that by putting their best feet foremost they might be 
successful in overtaking His Highness without police assistance. 
Louis Conneau avouched that the potato-stall which had tempted 
his comrade was within stone's-throw of the Tuileries, and as to 
Lycees, it was probable that the one which the Prince knew 
best by sight was that of Charlesmagne, near the Bastille end of 
the Rue de Rivoli. So MM. Monier, Bachon, and Uhlmann, 
along with young Conneau, might soon have been seen scud- 
ding across the Place du Carrousel towards the Rue de Rivoli 
entrance ; but so well used the police of the Tuileries to be con- 
ducted in those times, that a couple of the palace detectives — 
well-dressed gentlemen, with red ribands in their button-holes — 
who saw them hurry out, suspected something wrong, and stole 
after them. Perhaps they fancied that M. Monnier had pur- 
loined some of the crown diamonds, and that M. Bachon and M. 
Uhlmann were going with him to share the proceeds. Mistrust 
of honest men is the prime virtue of detectives. 
[to be continued.] 



ST. MART'S MUSE. 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 

EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OP 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 



Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

g@~Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of A. Williams & Co. 



Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 



Several organ pupils this term. 

Janie Allen ('77) is visiting at Mrs. Carter's. We were 
glad to see her at Chapel on Sunday evening last. 

Mrs. Bennett Smedes and the " sunbeams, " Bessie and 
Margaret, are away for a short visit to Wadesboro. 

The Calisthenic classes are full of enthusiasm and are enjoy- 
ing the out-door exercises which is permitted by the delightful 
weather. 

Sallie Lewis, (class of '77) of Charleston, S. C, is sojourn- 
ing with us for ;t season. She is the original Sally — bright and 
merry as of yore. 

It is very gratifying to us to report Bishop Atkinson's 
health as steadily improving. We cherish the hope of soon 
seeing our beloved and venerated Father again among us, with 
renewed strength and vigor. 



28 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Miss Blume's visit to her home in Leipzig, Germany, was 
very happy. She comes back brighter than ever after the enjoy- 
ment of the family reunion in "Vaderland," and her voice seems 
to us even richer and more delightful than last year. 

Another old scholar has joined the educational corps — Miss 
Willie Ashe accepts the position of governess in the family of 
Dr. Wm. Battle, of Wadesboro, and has entered upon her duties. 
We wish her success and happiness in her new home. 

Rebe Smith, Lou Norfleet, Alice Leake and " Blanchette," 
have all given us a call since school opened. It does us ever so 
much good to see the dear, familiar old faces from time to time 
and to hear such pleasant things said of school days now past 
and gone forever. 

Our forty-eighth annual session opened September 9th, with 
brightest prospects. Already the household numbers as many 
pupils as during the whole of last year, and a goodly number 
are still expected. They are generally working well and earn- 
estly, and enter with a pleasant spirit into all schemes for their 
improvement. 

Stepping into Christ Church for afternoon service we were 
pleased to see as " choir leaders " our old friends Sallie Carter 
and Florence Tucker, who after cultivating their vocal talents 
under Northern masters for a year or two, have returned home, 
and are making their accomplishments thus useful to their Parish 
Church. 

Euterpe has been summering on the coast of Maine — yacht- 
ing and bathing and — all the other things that go to make a 
true summer idyl, have lent their charms, and now the happiest 
of memories gladden the working hours, while hope looks for- 
ward to many more such summers all radiant with the bright- 
ness of " moonlight, music, love, and" — boating ! 

A word to the Alumnse ! Let them not forget that the next 
meeting will take place on Wednesday afternoon of Fair week, 
(October 20th) at 4 o'clock. We hope that there will be a full 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 29 

attendance, and that many names will be added to the list of 
full members. We want at least two hundred and fifty names 
and for each name at least one dollar, and then our good inten- 
tions can be carried into execution without further delay. 

Our Rector and Principal, in company with the Rev. Mr. 
Rich, of the Church of the Good Shepherd, spent a portion of 
the vacation in making a very delightful summer excursion. 
Going by sea from Norfolk to Boston, they spent a week in see- 
ing the sights of the modern Athens, another in the enjoyment 
of a quiet watering place on Long Island, and thence went to 
New York, returning home thoroughly refreshed and benefitted. 

We are glad to welcome Caro Pettigrew ('77), who is mak- 
ing us a short visit on her way to the Peabody Normal College 
at Nashville, Tenn. Caro has been fortunate enough to secure 
a scholarship there, and by appointment of Mr. Scarborough, 
Superintendent of Public Instruction in North Carolina, she 
comes to Mr. Smedes and St. Mary's for the preliminary exami- 
nation and recommendation necessary to admission. She has 
our best wishes and congratulations. 

The General Convention of the Church in the United States 
will assemble in New York City on October 6th. This meeting 
is tri-ennial, and it is something worth seeing to witness the 
gathering together of all the Bishops and prominent clergymen 
from every Diocese in this broad land ; and something worth 
listening to to hear the debates on the state of the Church and 
all matters of interest connected with it from the eloquent lips 
of the wisest and best men of our country. 

Among the " matriculates " of this session we are happy to 
greet Miss Phoebe McCullough, of Spartenburgh, S. C, who 
won the prize for answering the greatest number of questions last 
year. She selected " Art Lessons," among the prizes offered, and 
has entered upon her work in that department with an ardor which 
promises well for the development of her natural gift in that 
line. It is her desire to manifest her reverence and devotion to 



30 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

art by adopting it as her life-work. We wish her all success and 
a career none the less brilliant because its preparation must be 
long and arduous. 

Our girls are making our breakfast tables bright, just now, 
with field flowers, gathered during their afternoon rambles. 
These wild-wood treasures include blue-fringed asters, the trumpet 
shaped, golden fox-glove, the delicate, pink snap-dragon, the fra- 
grant honeysuckle, the golden rod — beloved of poets — with many 
minor blossoms whose nomenclature is unknown to us. Among 
the latter an humble sister of the lordly sun-flower deserves 
notice from the abundance and brilliancy of its bloom, and with 
its deep yellow portals and velvety black center, may be said to 
dominate the fields. 

Mr. Smedes seems never to tire of improving everything 
connected with St. Mary's. The latest is in the introduction of 
steam heating in the entire East Rock House, and Radiators will 
also be placed in the parlor, and perhaps later, in the school 
room. Never has the school seen such superior advantages in 
every department, and never has the "music school" been in such 
a flourishing and perfectly equipped condition. Mrs. Meares is 
in her true element — directing, advising, a kind word here and 
a helping hand extended to both scholars and teachers as occasion 
offers. Never was a school so fortunate in possessing such a lady 
principal, and never, never was a school more appreciative of 
such a mother. 

Mrs. Mary Mason, the author of that best of cooking books, 
which bears her name, and who is herself a notable housekeeper 
and -practical cuisiniere, has discovered a new way of making 
yeast. It is unfailing and keeps indefinitely — so say the good 
housewives who have for two years used no other " rising." 
Mrs. Mason calls it "Missionary Yeast," because her customers 
who will have it and yet are unwilling to accept a gratuitous sup- 
ply of their constant demands, have induced her to allow them 
to pay for it, and she applies all .the proceeds to missionary pur- 
poses. It is put up in ten cent packages and may be safely 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 31 

transported by mail. Orders are solicited from all who are 
troubled with bad yeast and sour bread. . Address Mrs. Mason, 
Raleigh, N. C. 

Steps have at last been taken for the early opening of our 
Diocesan institution for boys. Bishop Lyman's indefatigable 
exertions have secured the services of the Rev. Messrs. Spalding 
and Pitts as associate principals. These gentlemen bring to their 
work the prestige of great success in other fields, and are said to 
be in every respect eminently fitted for their responsible posi- 
tion. Former experience in such schools as Racine and Dr. 
Coit's, at Concord, N. H., inspire them with the determination 
to have " Wilberforce" rival those famous institutions, both in 
scholarship and discipline. With such a standard constantly in 
view, and such wisdom, energy and enterprise to wait upon them, 
we may well hope to have a church school for boys, of which we 
may be proud. Let our people come to the front and support, at 
least by their patronage, so good and necessary an undertaking. 
The locality is not yet fixed upon, but will be announced in the 
public journals at an early date. 

The following information received from the Mission Rooms 
in New York, respecting the scholar supported in Miss Nelson's 
school at Shanghai by St. Mary's, will be of interest : 

[Extract from Miss Nelson's Letter.] 

"Kaw Nie-Paw was one of the first pupils in the school; her 
mother died before she came to the school, and her father has 
married again. The step-mother is a most bigoted heathen, 
and during my absence in America threatened great violence to 
the girl if she came home and refused to conform to heathen 
worship. The girl is an earnest Christian, has been baptized and 
confirmed, and her step-mother has, I believe, softened down 
very much ; but the girl prefers remaining at the school during 
the winter and summer holidays, with several other of the pupils. 
She studies English and Chinese, and is doing remarkably well 
in English." Faithfully yours, 

Joshua Kimbee. Sec'v. 



32 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



ANSWERS TO PRIZE QUESTIONS. 



1. Give the origin of "There's many a slip between the cup 
and the lip." 

Answer. — Ancaeus, King of Ionica, paid great attention to the 
culture of the vine. On one occasion he was told by a slave 
whom he was pressing with hard labor in his vineyard, that he 
would never taste of the wine from those grapes. After the 
wine was made Ancaeus was about to raise a cup of it to his lips, 
deriding at the same time the pretended prophet, who said "there 
are many things between the cup and the lip." Just then 
tidings came to the king that a wild boar had broken into his 
vineyard. Throwing down the cup with the wine untasted, he 
rushed out to meet the animal, and lost his life in the encounter. 
Hence the proverb. 

2. What four historical personages voluntarily laid down 
almost absolute power ? 

Answer. — Sulla of Rome, Diocletian of Rome, Charles V. of 
Germany and Spain, and Christina of Sweden. 

3. According to the ancients, which were the seven planets? 
Answer. — The Moon, the Sun, Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, Venus, 

Mercury ; in the given order, the Moon being the nearest to the 
earth. 

4. What is the first pitched battle, the place of which is re- 
corded in history ? 

- Answer. — Thymbra, B. C. 548, where Cyrus defeated and 
took Croesus prisoner. 

5. In what year was King James' version of the Bible issued ? 
Answer.— A. D. 1611. 

6. Who was the first English poet, and who the first English 
prose-writer of note ? 

Answer. — Chaucer, poet ; Sir John Mandeville, prose-writer. 
They were contemporaries, and lived in the 14th century. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 33 

7. When and by whom was Westminster Abbey built? 
Answer. — It is said to have been founded by Sebert, King of 

the W. Saxons, A. D. 707 ; was rebuilt and enlarged by Edward 
the Confessor, and added to by various other sovereigns. After 
the revolution it was repaired, and the western towers were added 
by Wren. As it now stands it was completed in 1245. 

8. What makes the difference in the color of eyes? 
Answer. — The coloring matter depends upon the materials 

composing the blood which is furnished to the iris. 

9. Who was Robert Clive? 

Answer. — A British General and conqueror in India. Begin- 
ning life at the age of eighteen, as a clerk in the service of the 
East India Company, his military genius soon led him to enter 
the army, where he distinguished himself for desperate courage 
and sagacity. By his victories in the Carnatic he laid the foun- 
dation of English power in India ; was elected to the Irish peer- 
age with the title of Baron Clive of Plassey, and was appointed 
Governor and Commander-in-Chief of the British possessions 
in Bengal. He acquired almost fabulous wealth, and in his lat- 
ter years charges of fraud were brought against him in the 
House of Commons. He successfully vindicated his conduct, 
but his health had failed, and resorting to the use of opium for 
relief his intellect became greatly impaired, and at last, in a fit 
of melancholy, he committed suicide. 

10. During the reign of what King of England was our 
modern grand jury established and from what did it spring? 

Answer. — Henry II. Twelve men were sworn to present 
those who were known or reputed to be criminals within their 
district, for trial by jury. 

11. Who was the first and only King of England who sur- 
rendered to a foreign potentate the independence of his country ? 

Answer. — John Lackland gave up his crown to the Pope to 
receive it again from him as his vassal. 

12. There is a story told of a Chinese boy who accidentally 
dropped his ball into a deep hole where he could not reach it. 
He filled the hole with water, but the ball would not float. He 

5 



34 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

finally bethought himself of a lucky expedient which was suc- 
cessful. Can you guess it? 

Answer. — He put salt in the water to increase its density. 

13. Why is the flame of a candle tapering? 

Answer. — Because the supply of hot vapor diminishes as it 
ascends, and as it affords less resistance to the air the flame is 
reduced to a mere point. 

14. Why did Louis XYI. deem " 21 " a fatal number? 
Ansioer. — It was on April 21, 1770, that he was married to 

Maria Antoinette, which marriage brought such calamities upon 
France; on June 21, fifteen hundred people were trampled to 
death at the fete in honor of the marriage ; the birth of the un- 
fortunate Dauphin was celebrated by a fete on January 21, 1782; 
the flight to Varennes was on June 21, 1791 ; the abolition of 
royalty September 21, 1792, and on January 21, 1793, the un- 
happy monarch was decapitated. 

15. Who is known in literature as the " Ettrick Shepherd ? 
Answer. — James Hogg, a poet of Scotland, so called because 

he was born in a cottage on the banks of the Ettrick, and was 
descended from a long race of shepherds, whose occupation he 
himself followed in his youth. 

16. What price was paid for that copy of the Hebrew Scrip- 
tures from which the Septuagent translation was made ? 

Answer. — The liberty of 20,000 Jewish slaves in Alexandria, 
whose estimated value formed a large portion of the £2,000,000 
sterling paid. 

17. What became of the brazen serpent which Moses lifted up 
in the wilderness for the healing of the plague ? 

Answer. — It was preserved for about 700 years, until the time 
of Hezekiah, who "cleansed the temple" from all the idolatries 
of his father Ahaz. " He removed the high places, and brake 
the images and cut down the groves and brake in pieces the 
brazen serpent that Moses had made ; for unto those days the 
children of Israel did burn incense unto it ; and he called it 
Nehushtan," (a piece of brass.) 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 35 

18. When and by whom was the first opera composed? 
Answer. — Francesco Bamerino brought out " The Conversion 

of St. Paul," at Kome in 1460. But it lacked many points of 
the complete opera, and it was not till 1600 that Giacomo Peri 
composed " Eurydice," the libretto of which was written by 
Ottavio Binuccini. 

19. Where and what was the prayer of Jabez ? 

Answer. — Chronicles iv: 10. "Oh that thou wouldest bless 
me indeed and enlarge my coast, and that thine hand may be 
with me, and that thou wouldest keep me from evil that it may 
not grieve me." And the Lord granted him that which he 
requested. 

20. How was Marie Stuart " Queen of Scots " descended from 
King Bene? 

Answer. — Yolande, of Anjou, daughter of Bene, married Fer- 
rand de Vaudemont, from whom were descended the Dukes of 
Guise and Mary of Guise, who was Mary Stuart's mother. 

21. By whom was the first written arithmetic published, and 
when ? 

Answer. — By Diophantus, of Alexandria, in the 4th century. 
It was discovered in the 16th century in the Vatican Library. 
Originally there were fourteen books, but only six were found. 

22. What was Beethoven's physical infirmity, and at what age 
did it affect him ? 

Ansioer. — Deafness. It was the result of a serious illness, and 
gradually increased, till at the age of fifty he was totally deaf. 

23. The origin of " Man proposes but God disposes ?" 
Answer. — It is generally attributed to Thomas a Kempis, but 

is really of much greater antiquity ; it appears in the Chronicle 
of Battle Abbey, and in Piers Phoughman's Vision. The idea is 
contained in Prov. xvi, 9 : " A man's heart deviseth his way ; 
but the Lord directeth his steps." 

24. What is the difference between the battles of Ipsus and 
of Issus, of Chaeronea and of Coronea ? 

Ansioer. — The battle of Issus was fought by Alexander with 
Darius in 333 ; that of Ipsus by his Generals contending for 



36 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

dominion in 301. Coronea was fought by Agesilaus, King of 
Sparta, against Athens, Thebes and their allies in 394; and at 
Chaeronea in 338, Philip of Macedon subverted the liberties of 
Greece. 

25. By the birth of what two great men was the year 1564 
rendered illustrious? 

Answer. — Galileo aud Shakspeare. 

26. Who was the founder of the city of Palmyra? 
Ansiver. — Solomon built Tad m or, " the city of the plains," 

for the convenience of his traders in bringing materials for the 
building of the Temple. The name was afterwards changed to 
Palmyra or " the city of palms." 

27. Who were the " Seven Champions of Christendom ?" 
Answer. — St. George of England, St. Andrew of Scotland, St. 

David of Wales, St. Patrick of Ireland, St. Denis of France, 
St. James of Spain, and St. Mark of Venice. 

28. What is meant by the Year of Jubilee, and how often does 
it come? 

Answer. — It was the greatest of all the Sabbatical feasts of 
the Levitical law. After the " Seven times seventh year," the 
Jews were commanded to hallow the fiftieth year. The trumpets 
were blown for joy; lands that had been sold for distress went 
back to their owners; men who had been made slaves for debt 
were set free. It was the great year of deliverance and joy. 

29. What is a " Venice glass?" 

Answer. — A very delicate glass which shivers into fragments 
at contact with poison, and which was much used in the time of 
the Borgias. 

30. What is the meaning of the word " Selah ?" 
Answer. — Generally accepted as a pause. 



8T. MARY'S MUSK 37 



ART NOTES. 



The labors of our modern archaeologists and discoverers have 
brought many strange things to light, and we have long ago 
given our consent to become devout believers in Assyrian 
Art, and Phoenician Art, and the Art of the more than 
or ' ancient periods of Egyptian history, but it seems rather 
strange to hear of "Early Irish Art." Can one think of the 
native Celtic inhabitants of Ireland as possessing artistic taste? 
Nevertheless the Antiquarian Society of Zurich has lately pub- 
lished a learned treatise by Fertinand & Keller, on the " Orna- 
ments, Pictures and Letters of the Irish Manuscripts preserved 
in the Libraries of Switzerland." These Irish manuscripts are 
mostly of the eighth and ninth centuries, not a very early period 
in the world's history, but a time when Ireland was in a state of 
semi-barbarism. Prof. Keller is of opinion that the rich and 
varied designs which appear in many of them must have been 
derived from the East, and could not have had their origin in 
such a primitive country as Ireland then was. 

What a treasure ! How our art students would delight in 
the sumptuous and richly illustrated volume which gives to the 
world Mr. Paul Lacroix's studies of the manners and customs and 
costumes of France in the 18th century. Hundreds of pictures, 
gorgeous costumes, art information and all such things! The 
tantalizing ways publishers do have ! We will say nothing of 
the price of the book. 



ST. MARY'S SCHOOL, 

RALEIGH, N . C . , 
(Founded 1842.) 

THE REV. BENNETT SIVEEIDES, A.. M.., 
RECTOR AND PRINCIPAL. 

MRS. C. DeR. MEARBS, 

LADY PRINCIPAL. 

This school now offers inducements such as have 
never before been afforded by any school in the 
South. 

Acknowledged PRE-EMINENT in point of LOCATION, REFINING INFLUENCES 
and CHARACTER of Pupils. 

A CORPS OF FOURTEEN TEACHERS, carefully selected, with a view to fitness 
for their respective positions, and therefore thorough, efficient and enthusiastic 
in their work. 

A SCHOOL OF LANGUAGES, with eight teachers. Latin, by a graduate 
of the University of Virginia. Native French and German teachers. 

THE BEST EQUIPPED MUSICAL DEPARTMENT IN THE SOUTH. 

Separate building, heated by steam, five teachers, 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, 
a magnificent new pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States — and the only PEDAL PIANO south of New York. 

A VOCAL TEACHER, from the Royal Leipzig Conservatory. As a proof of 
her superior cultivation, it is only necessary to state that she has sung in the 
world-renowned Gewandhaus concerts. 

A FULLY EQUIPPED ART DEPARTMENT, under the charge of a distinguished 
Artist. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. Mary's in 

EVERY DEPARTMENT shall be UNSURPASSED. 

The 77th Term began Friday, September 10th, 1880. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars address the Rector. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, November, 1880. No. 3. 



THE DAY BEFORE THE FLOOD. 



On the seventh of those last days granted to the rebellious 
children of men in which they might yet turn to their God and 
escape the awful doom pronounced against them, the Angel of 
Mercy descended from heaven, seeking if he might anywhere 
find repentence. As he n eared the earth, a beautiful valley 
opened beneath him. Lofty hills, forest-crowned, half encircled 
it ; through its midst flowed a broad river, whose long windings 
ended in the distant, shining sea ; while groves of trees, tall and 
spreading or bending heavily under the rich fruit, surrounded 
and shaded the numerous dwellings scattered throughout its 
extent. But the beauty of the valley only seemed to render 
more terrible the angry sky above. A sense of fear, of immi- 
nent and untold evil, pervaded all nature and stamped its impress 
upon the white, bewildered, upturned faces of men. 

It was the month Zif, the time of ripening barley, of cloudless, 
azure skies. But swift, silent masses of clouds were gathering 
black and terrible against the blue, forming, as it seemed to the 
men below, a vast roof descending to shut them forever from the 
sight of heaven. 

The angel paused in his slow flight j for from an ark resting 
by the waterside, rose the voice of praise and prayer. Bending 
lower he listened, well pleased ; and upon the holy family within 
fell a deeper peaee, and on their lips burned more earnest thanks- 
givings as the unseen angel joined in the worship of their com- 
mon Maker. But suddenly there arose a tumult of loud and 
angry voices from a group of boys near the river. A moment 



42 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

before, a dove had been resting upon a tree whose spreading 
branches shaded the ark ; now its wing broken by a stone, it 
flutters to the earth, caught as it fell by the youngest of the 
party. He who had thrown the stone attempted to wrest his 
prize from the hand of his play-fellow ; but the child pitying 
its terror and pain, refused to give up the wounded bird. Hold- 
ing it fast, he endeavored to escape, but a shower of blows from 
his enraged companion laid him senseless on the ground, while 
the other children looked on, some indifferently, others in amuse- 
ment, at the sport. 

The angel shuddered and passed on. Now, down a mountain 
slope wound a glittering bridal procession. On the way the 
party came upon a band of ruffians plundering the house of a 
defenceless woman ; but deaf to her cries for help, with wild 
songs and boisterous mirth, the revellers went their way. 

Then in a lonely field the angel saw a feeble, blind, old man, 
bound to a tree by his two stalwart sons. They were weary 
of working for his support, and answering with mock- 
ing laughter, their father's bitter curse, they left him there 
to die. Filled with sorrow and indignation, the angel 
continued his flight, pausing soon above a green and quiet 
hillside, where a shepherd lad sat tending his floeks. A 
troubled and awe-struck look came over the countenance of 
the boy as he raised his eyes to the unfamiliar, stormy sky. But 
into his own looked the deep and tender eyes of the Angel of 
Mercy, and the child was comforted, he knew not why. Then 
as he heard the glad voices of his little brothers playing near 
their father's dwelling in the vale below, his face grew bright, 
and raising his voice, he answered back their merry songs. But 
now, on the brow of the hill a band of hunters appear, return- 
ing unsuccessful from the chase. Fierce with disappointment, 
they see the little flock of sheep guarded only by a child, and 
rush down among them, killing some and scattering the rest 
terror-stricken to the neighboring woods, while the leader of the 
band answers the little shepherd's entreaties by a savage blow 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 43 

which stretches him motionless upon the ground, his happy voice 
silenced forever. 

Sadly the angel left the scene, and next looked upon a mother, 
young and fair, standing in her doorway with a little child by her 
side ; before her two travelling merchants displayed their wares. 
She gazed with longing eyes upon the rich silks, the gold and 
jewels. At length, after some parley with the men, she lifted 
her beautiful boy, aud placing him in the arms of one of them, 
received in return a parcel of the coveted goods. 

Such were the scenes which throughout the day the Angel of 
Mercy beheld. Childhood was not innocent, nor womanhood 
pure and gentle. The earth was filled with violence. The 
wickedness of man was great ; and every purpose and desire of 
his heart was only evil continually. The very fount and well- 
spring of good was choked. For as the day drew to its close, 
the angel hung one last moment over the earth. The solemn 
sounds of praise and supplication breaking on the evening still- 
ness had arrested his upward flight. But they came from a grove 
where a great multitude were bringing gifts to an idol's shrine ; 
and their prayers and hymns were offered to a block of senseless 
stone. The angel spread his wings and flew heavenward, cry- 
ing, crying: Woe, woe, woe! A roll of thunder, low, deep, 
awful, startled the worshippers from their unholy rites ; a sudden 
burst of rain extinguished the sacrificial fires and the torches ; a 
blinding glare of lightning revealed for a moment the awful 
terror and confusion of the vast multitude; then a horror of great 
darkness fell upon the world. 



44 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



BLIND. 



A TALE — TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OP PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER V— (Continued.) 

Clement turned round. He had never before seen his father 
show so much emotion. He went to him, and tried to speak. 

" Leave me, my son," said the old man, waving him off. 
" What will you give me that heaven has not given better? 
Listen. Soon after his death I was sleeping up here in my grief, 
when I was awakened in the night by the storm and rain. The 
lightning showed unto me himself, dressed as he was in his life- 
time. He spoke not, but stood at the foot of the bed, and gazed 
quietly on me. Then it seized hold of me. I had not sufficient 
grace to see the brighteried face. The next day I felt the peace 
which it had left for me. Since then it has never come again. 
But last night, (in the evening I read a book raising doubts of 
God and His word, and went to bed in anger,) about midnight, 
as I again started up, he stood before me once again, but in his 
hands was the Bible, open and written in golden letters. He 
pointed to it with his finger, but the brilliancy of the light which 
was reflected from the pages nearly blinded me, and I could not 
read a line. I drew near to him, half rising ; he stood still, 
sorrow and love in his countenance which now softened more 
into anxiety as I struggled to read, and was not able. Then a 
light passed before my eyes — everything was dark — he went out 
softly and left me in tears." 

The old man was standing at the window, and Clement saw 
him trembling. 

" Father !" he called, and seized his weak, loose hand. It was 
moist and cold. " Father ! you frighten me. You should send 
for the doctor." 

" The doctor? said his father, almost violently and straighten- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 45 

ing himself. " I am well ; that is the matter. My soul wills 
and longs for death, and my body obstinately resists it." 

" This dream, father, unsettles you !" 

"Dream? I tell you that I was as wide awake then as now." 

" I do not doubt, father, that you were awake, but all the more 
does this ague-fit which wakes you with disturbing dreams 
worry me. See, even now, with the remembrance of them you 
are beside yourself, and your pulse is flying. I know, even as 
little of a doctor as I am, that you had a fever in the night, and 
now" — 

" D» you imagine that you know that, poor man," cried his 
father. Oh, noble wisdom ! Oh, gracious knowledge ! But 
whom do I accuse ? Do I not deserve the punishment, I who 
prattle of God's secrets and make my full heart a target for the 
mocker? Is that the fruit of your learning, and do you fancy 
to eat figs from the brier? But I know you well, you poor 
fellow ; you who make new gods for the people, and in your 
heart worship yourself. Your days are numbered !" 

He went to the door, his bald head flushed, and did not look 
at Clement, who stood stunned. Suddenly, he felt the hand of 
his father on his shoulder. 

[to be continued.] 



EPICS. 



Poetry is the natural expression of men's deepest thoughts. 
But while nations are in their rude, primitive state, they are in- 
capable of sustained effort, and the first fruits of their muse are 
mere fragments. Some of these are very beautiful, but their 
subjects are unconnected. As the people grow in power and 
civilization, they ponder one idea more deeply and attempt more 
difficult departments of poetry. At last they arrive at the Epos, 
which is the noblest of all. As it is the noblest, so it is the 



46 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

most difficult. It is simply the recital in poetic form of some 
illustrious enterprise. But to construct a- long poem which shall 
not for a moment allow the interest to flag, and shall maintain a 
style suited to the dignity of the subject, is the highest effort of 
poetical genius. None have ever attained that highest point, for 
even the best epic has failed in one or more respects, and few 
countries have produced works worthy to be placed by the side 
of the Iliad. Spain has given us the Araucana, Persia the Shah 
Namah, and Finland the Kalevala ; but who besides antiqua- 
rians reads them ? We can count on our fingers the epics of the 
world. 

Epics may be classified uuder four heads. First, the martial 
epics, as the Iliad and the Mahabharata; second, the epics of 
adventure and colonization, as the Ramaqana, the iEneid and the 
Odyssey; thirdly, the sacred epic, in which class Paradise Lost 
stands alone; fourthly, the social epic, under which head we 
may place Aurora Leigh. The honor of being the first to essay 
the martial epic is due to Homer. With a plot which to us 
seems simple to absurdity — a mighty warrior in a childish fit of 
the sulks over the equally childish exactions of his comman- 
der — he interweaves the history of the close of the Trojan war ; 
the biography of its chiefs and the story of their ancestors; the 
religion, manners and customs of the allied Greeks down to the 
minutest detail. Nothing is too small for his notice. In that 
tenderest of episodes, the parting of Hector and Andromache, 
Homer does not disdain to notice the fright of a little child ; and 
with that touch, the scene becomes life-like. 

But it is not in the martial epic alone that the greatness of 
Homer appears ; the Odyssey stands first in the second class. 
Not so majestic in style, but with a plot far more complex than 
that of the Iliad, it is possessed of a charm which wins the hearts 
of all women at least ; and the ball-play of Nausicaa and her 
maids make a more lasting impression on our minds than the 
battle of the river Scamander. When we lay aside Homer, we 
feel as if we had left a friend ; and not one only, for he makes 
us know and love all his characters ; yes, love their very faults. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 47 

What wonder that these poems were taught as an encyclopedia 
of knowledge to the Greek youth, not only for the facts that 
they contained, but as models of style, and inspirations to all 
brave and tender deeds. They were not, however, without fault. 
Plato takes great exceptions to thein. In advising the rulers of 
his ideal Republic as to the education of their children, he pro- 
posed that certain of Homer's stories which would teach fraud 
and guile, and certain others which belittled the gods, shall 
not be allowed. " And neither shall anything be said of the 
wars and quarrels of the gods, unless they mean their future 
guardians to regard the habit of quarreling as honorable. For 
though they love Homer, they do not love his faults and lies." 
Stern judgment of a heathen on a heathen ; but we, viewing 
these epics, not as science or history, but as ancient thought, can 
admire the genius which produced them and the tenderness and 
love with which they are pervaded. 

In Homer we find evidences of an untutored age, but in Vir- 
gil we find more polished manners and more enlightened minds. 
His iEneid ranks next to the Odyssey in epics of adventure.. 
Virgil was very fortunate in the choice of his subject. In his 
time, nothing could have been more flattering to the Romans 
than his deriving their source from the famous hero .zEneas, the 
son of Venus and Anchises, who after the fall of Troy landed 
with a few followers on the shores of Latium, and married into 
the family of its king. But it was an insinuation which none of 
the earlier and sterner Romans could have borne. They had 
looked down upon the Greeks, and had scarcely dignified them 
with the name of nation. But as Greece had risen on the roll 
of fame, and become the seat of learning and the fine arts, the 
later Romans were only too proud to derive their descent from 
so illustrious an ancestry. After the Greek provinces were con- 
quered, the education of the Roman youth was intrusted to 
Greek slaves, and the sturdy old Romans strove in vain against 
the mastery which the Greek mind was gaining. So when Vir- 
gil demonstrated to them that they were descended from this 
nation of learning, instead of hooting at him as they would have 



48 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

done a century before, he was received with shouts of applause. 
This was the first sign of the decline ; gradually the style of the 
poets degenerated ; and having little patriotism to inspire them, 
they aimed to please the crowd with a style profuse with orna- 
ments and figures. 

But there is one book in the iEneid which has never been 
equalled. It is the description of ^Eneas' descent into hell. 
The scenery and objects are all calculated to produce that solemn 
awe which is to be expected in a glimpse at the invisible world. 
Doubtless this is where Dante derived his idea of the Divina 
Com media. For he says: 

" Thou art my master, and my author thou, 
Thou art alone the one from whom I took 
The beautiful style that has done honor to me." 

Virgil's style is indeed beautiful. Coleridge says : " Take 
from Virgil his rythm and versification, and what remains?" 

I have dwelt so long on these epics, not only because they were 
the first, but because they were the models after which the later 
poets built. Statius, Lucan, Tasso, Camoens and Voltaire ad- 
hered more or less slavishly to their forms. Camoens, in his 
endeavor to remain true to his model, the iEneid, has introduced 
its mythology and has confounded with it his own faith ; while 
Tasso, following the Iliad less strictly, has treated his subject in 
a more masterly manner, and produced in the Gierusalemma one 
of the greatest epics of the world. 

Long before the time of Virgil, almost before Rome was a 
nation, were produced in the heart of Asia two great epic poems, 
the Ramaqana and the Mahabharata, respectively ascribed to the 
poets Valmike and Vyasa. The subjects of both are drawn from 
the religious tenets of the Hindus. Each relates an incarnation 
of their favorite god, Vishnu • and in each some most beautiful 
episodes are found ; the Bhagavad-Gita, or Divine song in the 
Mahabharata has been pronounced " the most beautiful and per- 
haps the most truly philosophical poem the whole range of litera- 
ture has produced." But as a whole these epics, though grand, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 49 

are not pleasing; for the monstrous proportions by which they 
convey the idea of power and omniscience are revolting ; and the 
customs of the people are so at variance with our own that no 
skill could render them attractive. 

One great man in modern times has followed no ancient model, 
but has paved a new way for himself, and that man is John Mil- 
ton. While other poets were celebrating the glorious deeds of 
earth, and introducing angels and demons as aiding or hindering 
men, he ventured to the gates of heaven and made the same angels 
his heroes. He sang " Things unattempted yet in prose or 
rhyme." He tells us of Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. 
He presents a grand picture of the fallen archangel Satan ; he 
shows us the purity and innocence of our first parents, their hap- 
piness in the Garden of Eden, their fall and punishment. His 
poem has been called " the dream of a Puritan who fell asleep 
over the first pages of his Bible." He completes the trio of great 
epic poets. No others have risen to such heights. We may 
fittingly close with the words of Dryden : 

"Three poets in three distant ages born, 
Greece, Italy and England did adorn : 
The first in loftiness of thought surpassed ; 
The next in majesty ; in both the last. 
The force of Nature could no further go ; 
To make a third, she joined the other two." 



THE ADVANTAGES OF POVERTY 



If we consult the annals of the "shining lights " of the literary 
and scientific world, we shall find that few of these great men 
were reared in luxurious homes, surrounded by all the comforts 
that money could desire ; but rather that nine-tenths of them 
were born poor, or thrown upon their own resources in early 
boyhood. 

We shall never know how many men of brilliant minds have 



,50 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

lived and died without accomplishing anything, simply because 
there was no necessity for exertion ; nor yet how many of our 
" shining lights" might have followed in their foot-steps if the 
glaring eyes of that wolf, hunger, had not followed them day 
after day, forcing them to pat forth every energy to save them- 
selves from her yawning jaws. 

Suppose the kind-hearted, though uncultivated, old Dr. John- 
son had been the offspring of wealthy parents, the petted child 
of fortune, would his mind have been more vigorous or his gen- 
erous heart more sympathetic? Surely not ; for it was his great 
longing to raise himself out of his lowly position that urged him 
to toil unceasingly, until he had given to the world his great 
literary work. It was also his early experience of the toils of 
poverty that made him quick to sympathize with the blind and 
the maim, and ready to share his last crust with those less fortu- 
nate than himself. It is almost impossible to think of Samuel 
Johnson as "my lord," for we have pictured him from child- 
hood as a shabbily dressed, uncouth, old man, toiling with his 
brain for his daily bread, and sharing that with his household 
pets and dependents, lame Mr. Levett, and blind Mrs. Williams, 
the cat Hodge and the negro Frank. 

If Burns had not been the child of a peasant, had not been 
obliged to follow the plough, had not spent his childhood on a 
farm, where he had the best opportunities for studying nature, 
the world would have experienced a great loss. If he had been 
the child of wealth, where would have been those gems of poetry, 
"On Turning up a Daisy with the Plough," and "On Turning 
up a Mouse's Nest with the Plough " ? If he had not been the 
son of a poor man, how could he so vividly have portrayed the 
peasant's life in that famous poem, "Cotter's Saturday Night"? 

But this tendency to invigorate the mind by throwing it upon 
its own resources and making it think for itself when young, is 
not the only good effect produced by poverty ; for by it the soul 
is also strengthened and brought nearer to its Maker. It is almost 
impossible, though, for man to realize that poverty, in many 
cases, is the greatest blessing. Why, the very word poverty, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 51 

brings to his mind's eye wan faces of innocent little children, 
wasting away for want of something to fill their hungry mouths ; 
the haggard countenance of some poor young mother, driven 
almost to despair, because her only child, her darling, is starving 
and she has not even a crumb of bread or a drop of water, with 
which to bring it back to life. He turns from the contemplation 
of such pictures with the question, Can there be any advantage 
in all this suffering; can yon poor desolate woman have anything 
for which to be thankful ? He forgets that as fire has a purify- 
ing influence on metals, so poverty and suffering strengthen and 
purify the soul and draw it closer to the great Sufferer, who has 
said, " Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and I say unto 
you not one of them shall fall to the ground without my Father 
in heaven." 

It is true that "God does not willingly afflict his children," 
but does so in order to make them care less for the things of 
earth and more for Him; so this woman's trials have only 
brought her closer to her blessed Saviour, who was Himself a 
" man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." 



DREAMS. 



The subject of dreams is one which has been much discussed 
and one which contains many interesting topics for thought. 

A dream is a series of thoughts passing through the mind 
during sleep. They are intimately connected with our waking 
thoughts; and the thoughts which are in our minds when we lie 
down to sleep, are often continued in our dreams. Coleridge 
composed his Kabla Khan, while in this unconscious state of 
mind. He had been reading, and the last sentence he read, ling- 
ering in his mind, formed its self, as it were, into a poem, a part 
of which he remembered and wrote down when he awoke. A 
remarkable fact about dreams is, that while they seem to em- 



52 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

brace hours, days, and even years, they are in reality, begun and 
ended in a few minutes. 

In DcQuincey's " Confessions of an Opium Eater," we have 
an example of a dream which seemed to last a thousand years, 
but was really not more than two or three hours long. He says : 
"Vishnu hated me, Seeva lay in wait for me. I came suddenly 
upon Isis and Osiris. I had done a deed they said, at which the 
ibis and the crocodile trembleth. I was buried for a thousand years 
in stone coffins, with mummies and sphinxes, in narrow cham- 
bers, at the heart of the eternal pyramids." By such examples 
as this, we learn that we have no control over the mind in sleep, 
and that dreams wholly disregard all laws of time and space. 
Many people attach a prophetic character to dreams, and there 
are many incidents related which would seem to support the 
belief. Cicero tells a story of two men who were travelling 
together, and coming to a town where they were to spend the 
night, one of them went to the inn, while the other went to a 
private house. During the night the one at the private house 
dreamed that his friend came to him in great distress, imploring 
his help, because the landlord was attempting to murder him. 
The dream was so vivid that the dreamer awoke expecting to see 
his friend standing by his side; but finding he had been dream- 
ing, he again went to sleep. Soon his friend returned, this time 
to tell him that help would be useless, for he had already been 
put to death, and that an attempt would be made to take his 
body out of town in a wagon filled with trash. On going to the 
inn the next morning, he could hear nothing of his friend ; so he 
resolved to search a wagon which he saw standing by. He did 
so, found the body and had the murderer arrested. Such dreams, 
however, are not common, and therefore cannot be easily ac- 
counted for. But these real dreams are by no means the only 
ones which we experience, for is there any one who does not to 
some extent indulge in day dreams ? 

In them we surround ourselves with all that our hearts hold 
dearest and best. Then no shadow or disappointment disturbs us, 
and we live in a perfect dream-land. And what variety there is 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 53 

in these dreams ! as each loves to think and dwell on the things 
that lie nearest his heart. The ambitious dream of fame ; the 
avaricious of gain ; and in these dreams they enjoy those things 
which they so earnestly desire in actual life. The school-boy 
dreams of the time when he shall have finished his books, and 
have laid before him, truer and more lasting pleasures than 
those afforded by his ball, hoop and marbles. He plans all sorts 
of brave and generous deeds to be done in future years. The 
young girl also looks forward to the end of her school days ; but 
from that time their dreams are slightly different, for as he 
dreams of victories in the field of public life, she thinks of con- 
quests to be made in a different field. The whole world fur- 
nishes him with food for thought, while only a small part of it is 
open to her. He dreams of fame, fortune and power among his 
fellow-men, but in the hearts of those around her she finds her 
world ; it is there she seeks for hidden treasures ; it is there she 
seeks to rule. Like the birds, 

He sings to the wide world, she to her nest ; 

In the nice ear of nature, which song is the best? 

We dream of these things, but alas, how few of our dreams 
are ever realized ! Perhaps like the fair dreams of Tennyson's 
" Lily Maid," they may not only fail, but we may realize instead 
their direct opposites; and instead of a life of unalloyed happi- 
ness, have one of adversity, made all the more hard to endure 
by the contrast with our bright dreams. While these bright 
fancies may give us pleasure for the moment, they seldom give 
strength for the sterner duties of life, hence we should strive to 

"Do noble things, not dream them all day long, 
And so make life, death, and that vast hereafter, 
One grand, sweet song." 



54 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



" THE PEISONEES OF THE CA UCASU8."* 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF X. DE MAISTRE. 
(CONTINUED.) 

Though Ivan's behavior on this occasion did not re-establish 
him in the estimation of all, he gained, at least, one friend; the 
young man whom he had saved adopted him as his "koniak " (a 
sacred title which the mountaineers of the Caucasus never 
violate), and swore to defend him against all men. 

However, this bond of friendship did not serve to lessen the 
hatred of the principal inhabitants. The courage which he had 
shown, and his attachment to his master, increased the fear with 
which he inspired them. They could no longer, as formerly, 
regard him as a mere buifoon, incapable of any great undertak- 
ing; and when they reflected on the unsuccessful expedition in 
which he had taken part, they were astonished that the Russian 
troops were met at a "point so far distant from their ordinary 
quarters, and they suspected that Ivan had had some means of 
fore-warning them. Although this conjecture was without foun- 
dation, they watched him the more narrowly. Old Ibrahim 
fearing some scheme for the release of his prisoners, no longer 
permitted them to have any lengthy conversation, and the brave 
denchik was menaced, sometimes even beaten, when he wished to 
converse with his master. 

In this situation the two prisoners devised a means of commu- 
nication without exciting the suspicions of their jailor. As they 
were in the habit of singing together some Russian songs, the 
Major took his guitar, when he had something important to say 
to Ivan, and questioned him while singing; the latter responded 
in the same tone, and his master accompanied him with his guitar. 



*Owing to the delay in receiving the copy, this translation was omitted in 
the last number. — Eds. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 55 

This proceeding being nothing new, the ruse was not discovered, 
and they were careful to avail themselves of it but rarely. 

More than three months had passed since the unfortunate 
expedition of which we have spoken, when Ivan thought he per- 
ceived an unusual excitement in the village. Some mules, loaded 
with powder, had arrived from the plains. The men cleaned 
their arms and prepared their cartridges. Ivan soon learned 
that they were preparing for a grand expedition. 

The whole nation was to unite in an attack upon a neighbor- 
ing people, who were under the protection of the Russians, and 
had permitted them to build a fort on their territory. The pur- 
pose was no less than the extermination of the entire tribe, as 
well as of the Russian battalion, which superintended the con- 
struction of the fort. 

Some days after, Ivan, upon leaving the cabin one morning, 
found the village deserted. All the able men had left during the 
night. In the tour which he made through the village, in order 
to gain information, he found new proofs of evil intentions to- 
ward himself. The old men avoided speaking to him. A little 
boy told him boldly that his father wished to kill him. Finally, 
as he was returning sadly to his master, he saw on the roof of a 
house a young woman, who raised her veil and excitedly made 
signs with her hands, to run away, pointing to the road leading 
to Russia. It was the sister of the Tchenges whom he had saved 
while crossing the Tereck. When he re-entered his prison, he 
found the old man engaged in a close inspection of Kascambo's 
fetters. 

A new-comer was seated in the room ; it was a man who had 
been prevented from following the others by an intermittent fe- 
ver, and who had been sent to Ibrahim to assist in guarding the 
prisoner until the return of the inhabitants. Ivan noticed this 
precaution without showing the least surprise. The absence of 
the men of the village offered a favorable opportunity for the 
execution of his projects, but the increased vigilance of the jailor, 
and, above all, the presence of the sick man, rendered success 
very uncertain. However, death seemed inevitable if he awaited 



56 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the return of the villagers. He foresaw that their expedition 
would prove unsuccessful, and that, in their rage, they would no 
longer spare him. There remained no other course than that of 
abandoning his master, or of securing his liberty without delay. 
The faithful servant would have suffered a thousand deaths 
rather than to have chosen the first alternative. 

Kascambo, who was beginning to lose hope, had been for some 
time in a kind of stupor and kept a profound silence. Ivan, 
more calm and gay than usual, surpassed himself in the repast, 
which he prepared, singing his Russian songs, with which he 
mingled words of encouragement for his master. 

" The time has come," said he, at the same time adding to 
each phrase the unmeaning refrain of a popular Russian song, 
hai luli, hai luli, "the time has come for us to end our misery, 
or to perish. To-morrow, hai luli, we will be on our way to a 
town, to a beautiful town, hai luli, which I do not wish to name. 
Courage, master ! do not despair. The God of the Russians is 
great." Kascambo, indifferent to life or death, not knowing the 
projects of his denchik, contented himself with saying: "Do 
whatsoever thou would'st, and be quiet." 

Toward evening, the sick man, whom their keeper had treated 
hospitably, in order to keep him there, and who, in addition to 
a good meal, had amused himself the rest of the day by eating 
chislik,* was seized with such a violent access of fever, that he 
abandoned the party and went to his home. They let him go 
without much objection, Ivan having completely reassured the 
old man by his gaiety. 

In order to prevent any suspicion, he withdrew at an early 
hour to the farthest corner of the room, and lay down on a bench 
against the wall, waiting for Ibrahim to go to sleep. The latter, 
however, had resolved to watch all night. Instead of lying down 
on a mat near the fire, as was his custom, he seated himself on a 
block opposite his prisoners, and dismissed his daughter-in-law, 
who retired into the next room, where her child was sleeping, 



*Roast Mutton. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 57 

and closed the door after her. Ivan, from his obscure corner, 
attentively regarded the scene before him. By the light of the 
fire, which blazed up now and then, a hatchet glittered in a re- 
cess of the wall. The old man, overcome by sleep, sometimes let 
his head fall on his breast. Ivan saw that the time had come, 
and rose up. The suspicious jailor instantly noticed it. " What 
art thou doing there?" he said sternly. Ivan, instead of reply- 
ing, drew near the fire, yawning like one who has just awakened 
a profound sleep. 

Ibrahim, who felt his eye-lids growing heavy, commanded 
Kascambo to play the guitar, in order to keep himself awake. 
The latter was refusing, but Ivan handed him the instrument, 
making the well-known sign. "Play master," said he, "I must 
speak with you." 

Kascambo tuned the instrument, and they sang together, the 
following ominous duet : 

Kascambo — " Hai luli, hai luli, what do you wish to say to 
me ? Take care." (At each question and reply, they sang the 
couplets of the Russian song, which follows :) 

"Je suis triste je m'inquiete, 
Je ne sais plus que devenir, 
Mon bon ami devait venir, 
Et je 1'attends ici seulette, 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
Qu'il fait triste sans mon ami !" 

Ivan — Behold that hatchet, but do not look at it. Hai luli, 
hai luli, I am going to break this rascal's head." 

"Je m'assieds pour filer ma laine, 
Le fil se casse dans ma main : 
Allons ! Je filerai demain, 
Anjourd, 'hui, je suis trop en peine, 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
Ou peut done §tre mon ami ?" 



58 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Kascambo — " Useless murder ! hai luli, hai luli, how can I 
escape with my fetters? 

''Coinme im petit veau suit sa mere, 
Comme un berger suit ses moutons, 
Comme un chevreau, dans les vallons 
Va chercher l'herbe printaniere, 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
Je cherche partout mon ami." 

Ivan — " The keys of the fetters are in the pockets of our 
jailor." 

"Lorsque je vais a la fontaine, 
Le matin, pour puiser de l'eau, 
Sans y songer, avec mon seau, 
J'entre dans le sentier qui mene, 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
A la porte de mon ami." 

Kascambo — " The women will give the alarm, hai luli. 

"Helas ! je languis Dans l'attente, 
Et l'ingrat se plait loin de moi ; 
Peut-etre il me manque de foi 
Aupres d'une nouvelle amante ! 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
Aurais-je perdu mon ami?" 

Ivan — " Let happen what will : will you not die all the same, 
hai luli, of misery and weariness ?" 

'Ah ! s'il est vrai qu'il soit volage, 
S'il doit unjour m'abandonner, 
Le village n'n qu'a, bruler, 
Et moi-meme avec le village ! 

Hai luli, hai luli, 
A quoi bon vivre sans son ami ?" 

The old man becoming attentive, they redoubled the u hai 
luli " accompanied by a clamorous " arpeggio. " " Play, mas- 
ter," continued the denchik ; " play the Cosaque ; I am going to 
dance around the room in order to get near the hatchet ; play 
boldly." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 59 

Kascambo — Ah, well ! so be it; this torment will be ended." 
He turned his head, and began to play with all his strength, the 
required dance. 

Ivan commenced the steps and grotesque attitudes of the 
Cosaque, which was particularly pleasing to the old man, mak- 
ing many leaps and gambols, and interspersing cries, in order to 
turn his attention. When Kascambo thought that the dancer was 
near the hatchet, his heart beat with anxiety. 

The instrument of their deliverance was in a little closet with- 
out a door, made in the wall, but at a height to which Ivan 
could scarcely reach 

In order to have it within reach he profited by a favorable 
moment, seized it suddenly and immediately put it on the floor 
within the shadow which Ibrahim's body formed. When the 
latter turned his eyes toward him, he was at some distance, con- 
tinuing to dance. This dangerous situation had lasted long 
enough, and Kascambo, tired of playing, began to think that 
his denchik was wanting in courage, or did not deem the occa- 
sion favorable. 

He turned his eyes on him, at the moment when, having seized 
the hatchet, the intrepid dancer was advancing with a firm step 
to strike the old jailor. 

The agitation which the Major felt was so great that he ceased 
to play, and let his guitar fall on his knees. At the same 
instant, the old man was leaning over, and had taken a step 
forward in order to put some brush-wood into the fire ; some dry 
leaves blazed up and threw a bright light over the room ; Ibra- 
him turned to re-seat himself. 

[to be continued.] 



60 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



A STORY OF THE PRINCE IMPERIAL. 



(concluded.) 



The old woman who kept the fried-potato stall at the corner 
of the Rue St.-Honore and the Rue des Bons Enfants was known 
in the quarter by the nickname of Mere Rissole. She was rather 
a character in her way ; and, though not possessed of such fine 
literary and artistic collections as her sister-friers who sell pota- 
toes to the rising talent of the Quartier Latin, she nevertheless 
wielded some social influence by reason of having some hundred 
garrulous female concierges for her customers. To such a woman 
any bit of news was welcome as a broad piece of silver, and 
worth it, for it helped her to keep her customers in patience while 
the process of slowly gilding the potatoes in the hissing grease 
was going on. Wherefore, Mother Rissole fairly panted with 
excitement when she was accosted by three perspiring men and 
a little boy, who all asked her with breathless eagerness whether 
she had seen another little boy aged nine, dressed in black velvet 
— a handsome boy, with large soft eyes and winning ways—' in 
fact, the Prince Imperial/ blurted out poor M. Monnier, who was 
beginning to have misgivings lest he should sleep at Mazas and 
subsequently be tried on a capital charge. 'You must know the 
Prince Imperial, madame: tell us truly whether you have seen 
him.' 

'Seigneur Dieu! Why, it must be the boy who came here 
about an hour ago, but I didn't notice him,' exclaimed the old 
woman, dropping her knife into the frying-pan from surprise, 
and splashing a drop of scalding grease on to the round chin of 
M. Bachon, who murmured a benison as he wiped it off. ' Mon 
Dieu! mon Dieu! added she, 'why, he gave me a franc, and 
wouldn't take any change — then he walked off with a shabby 
man in a bad hat, who often comes to me to buy his breakfast.' 

1 Shabby man— bad hat ! ' echoed M. Monnier, beside himself. 
' Which way did they go? Quick ! we've not a moment to lose/ 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 61 

' I really don't know/ answered Mother Rissole, bewildered. 

' Do you know where this shabby customer of yours lives ? ' 
asked M. Bachon, putting a more practical question. 

'Is his hat so very bad? Perhaps we might know him by 
that/ asked Louis Conneau, anxious to display his acumen. 

'I don't know where the man lives, but I've heard that he's a 
journalist,' answered the fried-potato woman. ' He sometimes 
gives me a bundle of newspapers to pay for his breakfast, instead 
of money.' 

'What papers?' inquired M. Monnier. 

'I don't know, sir; I can't read/ was the puzzled answer. 

'Anyhow, the man's a Radical/ opined M. Bachon. 'No 
Conservative writer would come to buy fried-potatoes at a stall 
and pay for them in kind.' 

This little sally made no one smile, for matters were beginning 
to look ugly. The Crown Prince in the hands of a shabby 
Radical might mean all sorts of abominable things, not the least 
probable of which might be the demand for a thumping ransom. 
To make matters worse, it began to rain at that moment, and the 
party had, of course, no umbrellas. They could not get into a 
cab, because it was now their duty to walk up the Rue Rivoli as 
far as the College Charlemagne aud see if they could not fall in 
with the Prince on their way. Damp and wretched, they trudged 
off on their unpromising errand, little Conneau having to run to 
keep pace with them; the two detectives, who had never lost 
sight of them, followed at a respectful distance behind. By the 
time they reached the Hotel de Yille they were dripping sops ; 
and upon arriving at the college they were steaming from heat 
and moisture like boiled vegetables. Unhappily, their perse- 
verance was not to be rewarded, for on looking up and down the 
street, where the rain was falling in torrents, the}^ saw nothing 
resembling a Prince nor even a shabby Radical. There were 
men with bad hats enough, but they were ordinary folks hurry- 
ing through their business in the rain, and offering nothing sus- 
picious to the eye of the beholder. It had been the practice of 
M. Monnier to improve the shining hours which he spent with 



62 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

his Imperial pupil by taking the casual objects and incidents of 
life as texts for instructive sermons. He had already made men- 
tal note of the fact that if he recovered his pupil safe and sound 
he would discourse to him about potatoes, scalding grease, Radi- 
cals, and the uses to which a hat may be put when the nap is 
gone: but he now added to his mental notes that constriction of 
the throat which is a symptom of great fear, and from which he 
began to suffer acutely at that moment. He remarked also how 
his friend Bachon and the valet Uhlmann were marking time 
nervously on the pavement, as if they too saw no pleasing vista 
opening before them; but this interesting observation did not 
cloak from him the necessity of returning to the Tuileries with- 
out further delay. So a cab was hailed, and the whole dismal 
party got into it. Louis Conneau, who had borne up bravely 
till then, began to cry, by doing which he rendered great service 
to the three men, who only wanted such an excuse to upbraid 
him all three together, and vow that the whole thing was his 
fault. 

Let us tread lightly over the scene that took place at the 
Tuileries when it was disclosed to Napoleon III. and the Empress 
that their son had taken what the French figuratively call the 
key of the fields, and had last been seen in the company of a 
tatterdemalion quill-driver. How aides-de-camp rushed about 
and how maids of honour fainted; how secretaries of State were 
sent for, and arrived with their hair dishevelled; how the Pre- 
fect of Police drove to and fro about the city, giving orders and 
cross-orders ; and how, during five mortal hours, the entire police 
of the best policed city in the world left off hunting rogues to 
chase their Imperial Master's heir — all these things will be re- 
corded some day when the Court history of the Second Empire 
gets written. Enough to say here that towards six in the even- 
ing, when the confusion in the palace was at its height, a rather 
dusty and somewhat abashed little boy was seen parleying with 
the sentry who mounted guard under the Triumphal arch of the 
Carrousel. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 63 

'Why, it's he!' screamed M. Monnier, who witnessed the 
sight from his window ; and he would have dashed out of the 
room: but he was practically in the custody of two officers of 
the guards, who courteously restrained him. The next moment, 
however, shouts of joy, greetings, &c, mingled with reproaches, 
could be heard in the passage outside, and M. Monnier knew 
that his pupil had come home safe and sound. Etiquette pre- 
vented the tutor from hastening into the Emperor's presence un- 
bidden ; but he was soon summoned, and entering the Empress's 
drawing-room, found Her Majesty laughing as she dried her 
eyes, while the Emperor and half a dozen court ladies surrounded 
the Prince Imperial, with amused, half-wondering smiles, as if 
he were a boy of some strange breed, telling marvelous things. 
In sooth, the lad was seated on a footstool, and, having made his 
peace with his parents for his truancy, was complacently relating 
his adventures. On seeing his tutor, he stood up and hung his 
head, as if ashamed, for form's sake. 

' Ah, Louis, you will have to beg M. Monnier's pardon, for 
you have put him in great anxiety,' said the Emperor. 'Your 
punishment shall be to write out an account for him of all you've 
been doing.' 

'I can't remember every little thing, you know,' said the 
Prince, not much relishing the prospective task. 

M. Monnier made a mental note for a lecture on mnemonics, 
but for the present he said, 'Well, monseigneur, do you at least 
know who your companion was ? ' 

'Oh, he was a very nice person,' exclaimed the Prince. 
' When it rained, he took me into his house and showed me a 
number of odd things. He seems to be a poor man, but he has 
seen a great number of countries and spent many years in Cay- 
enne. Where is Cayenne, papa?' 

And the Prince looked up aimlessly at the Emperor, who 
winced. 

A few weeks later one of those political plots which used 
always to be breaking out in Paris under the Empire (per- 
haps because the police had some interest in their frequency) 



64 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

brought about a dozen so-called revolutionists into the meshes 
of the Rue de Jerusalem. Among them was a poor wight, a 
journalist, named Victor Marchy, who had but lately returned 
from a ten year's captivity at Cayenne, whence he had escaped. 
Lying in prison, this unfortunate fellow was told one day that 
papers had been found in his lodgings which implicated him in 
a plot against the Emperor's life.' 

'Ah pour ca non!' exclaimed Marchy. 'J'en appelle au 
Prince Imperial que je ne suis pas un assassin ! ' 

' Why to the Prince Imperial, who is but a child ? ' asked the 
juge d'instruction, astonished. 

1 Take him my photograph,' answered Victor Marchy. 

The prisoner's photograph was submitted to the Prince Im- 
perial, who recognized it as that of 'the shabby Radical with the 
bad had ' in whose company he had spent his truant day. 
Wherefore the Emperor, as he himself examined the portrait, 
said, with some emotion : 

'This man held my boy's life in his hands during a whole day; 
he can be no enemy of mine! ' 

And he signed Victor Marchy 's pardon. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 65 



An unpublished poem by the late Joseph Pannell, of Petersburg, Virginia, 
contributed to the Muse by his daughter.] 

THE SEASON OF LIFE. 



Our life is but a rolling year ; 

From change to change we run ; 
Our joys, our hopes, our grief and fear 

Are fleeting as the sun. 

First spring in pure and holy joy, 

With blushes on the cheek, 
Comes forth a merry, laughing boy, 

The sunny fields to seek. 

It's budding flowers of loveliness 

Are hopes that soon depart, 
The promises of happiness 

That spring up in the heart. 

Then all is sunshine in the sky, 

All dewdrop on the flower ; 
If tears bedim youth's sparkling eye, 

'Tis as an April shower. 

Hope still o'er all, his castle builds 

And points to summer's reign, 
When earth her lap with plenty fills, 

Her store-house heaps with grain. 

And summer comes, proud Manhood's type, 
With boys and laurels crowned ; 

Her golden fruit hangs tempting ripe 
Or strewed upon the ground. 



m ST. MARY'S MUSK 

Next autumn, and upon his brow 

Sits melancholy drear; 
The wreath that summer wore, is now 

A chaplet, brown and sear. 

The days are gone when blithe and gay y 

Joy caroled his glee — 
Hopes fall as silently away 

As leafless from the tree. 

Next winter comes ; the chilling frost 

Lies hoary on his head ; 
Ambition's spells forever lost, 

And withered hope lies dead. 

His wrinkled hand he points behind 
To childhood's time of flowers ; 

While dirges sings the howling wind 
Over departed hours. 

The Future ! all is dark and drear, 
Hope pierces not its gloom : 

Strength fails, and in the dying year 
He totters to the tomb. 



THE BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS. 



In Ashevilie there are not many stores and houses, and it has 
no large handsome buildings. Its only beauty (but that is a 
great one) is the mountains which surround it. When you wish 
to see the mountains at their best, you have to start early, as it 
takes a long time to go up and come down. When you get on 
top, however, you are fully repaid for your trouble. There you 
can look down and see the whole surrounding country. Ashe- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 67 

ville looks like a doll town, and the houses and the tall trees 
look no taller than an inch from the ground. Everywhere you 
see lovely ferns and hill flowers, beautiful moses and the moun- 
tain laurel with its delicate rose-like flowers. Blackberries and 
huckleberries grow temptingly about your path. The dogwood 
with its scarlet berries, and lovely grasses, wave to and fro in the 
gentle wind. Now and then you come suddenly upon a spring 
of clear, cold water. The rocks shine like silver, for they are 
full of mica. Walking or riding in the mountains you see quan- 
tities of it. Once in a long while you come to a house or see a 
goat, but besides this, it all abounds in a lovely solitary grandeur. 

Maegie Busbee, 
Eight years old. 

Note.- — The primitive punctuation and other evidences of 
infantine genius plainly show the genuineness of the above. 



"BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM." 



Number Two. 



Dear Muse : — In- compliance with your wishes, expressed in 
the September number, I take pleasure in sending you the fol- 
lowing contribution to your pages: 

The work of building up the Church at Dry Grove, Miss., did 
not owe its first impulse to a daughter of St. Mary's, but as her 
large sympathies and ever-ready fingers contributed so greatly 
to the ultimate success of the undertaking, a brief account of it 
may not inappropriately appear in the series, which it is designed 
to bring out in the Muse. Of the other two co-laborers, one is 
bound by a yet tenderer tie to the interests of St. Mary's, and 
may in a more literal sense be called "a daughter" of the house. 

When the Spring of '65 came with its burden of defeat and 
gloom, there were, in the South, few sadder households than ours, 



68 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

if we consider that its three members who had worn the grey, 
had all passed safely through the fiery ordeal of a four years 7 
war. 

The broad fields that had formerly constituted our wealth, 
were now scarcely worth more than the taxes that were paid on 
them. There was no church edifice nearer than Raymond — 10 

miles distant — and the noble roans that had so often drawn us 

i 

there to service, and returned in time for dinner, on Sundays, 
had long since taken their place in government service as artil- 
lery horses. Ours was the only Church family in the neighbor- 
hood, and Church ministrations seemed to human eyes one of the 
least possible of things. 

The first to move in the enterprise was the youngest of the 
three sisters, who afterwards, by their united efforts and with 
God's blessing, built a church which cost $2,700 ; bought a 
rectory, with upwards of 100 acres of land attached, and valued 
at $2,500, and cherished a Training School, which has given to 
the vineyard three Priests and four Deacons, besides preparing 
nine Postulants for Holy Orders. 

Emmy sought a situation as governess in a private family, and 
at the end of the term in June, '66, put aside her year's salary — 
$500 in gold — as a nucleus for our church building. Then a 
sewing-society was organized, but through this channel money 
came in small driblets, because, at the beginning, little was done 
outside of one household. Next, friends all over the land were 
written to, six letters apiece daily being the self-appointed task of 
each worker. In this way two thousand letters were written, 
names of Church people being obtained from the Spirit of 
Missions, religious papers and even funeral notices. 

In conjunction with this labor a regular system of visiting 
was instituted and faithfully carried out, through the winter's 
mud and the heat of summer, in order to prepare the minds of 
the people for the Church's teaching. So blessed were these lay 
efforts, that at the first visitation of the Bishop in our new build- 
ing, there were twenty-three baptisms, and several confirmations. 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 69 

One of the sisters — she who is proud to call herself St. Mary's 
pupil, was asked to stand sponsor for quite a number of the 
younger members of families who had hitherto been strangers 
to our worship. Among other charms that endear her to those 
who know her, is that of a ready and most hearty laugh. It 
gushes forth sometimes like suddenly loosened waters, against her 
will. Fancy how difficult she found it to hold herself in check 
when she had to give the name of one of her protegees as Heze- 
kiah Moses John Daniel Isham Harris Sterling Price Walker. 
The child was born during the war, the father and brothers absent, 
and each suggested a name, all of which were taken and strung 
together, forming a total aggregate of doubtful euphony. 

A minister was called, and duly installed in the rectory ; and 
now to provide for the payment of his salary became a serious 
question, for though many families had been added to the house- 
hold of faith, they were for the most part impoverished by the 
war, and unable to bear heavy burdens. The three sisters pro- 
mised fifty dollars apiece, without any visible means of paying 
one. Believing firmly in the blessing which attends faithful effort, 
however humble, they begged bright calico scraps and made a 
handsome quilt, which was sold for five dollars. With that 
money they bought a piece of pink calico, out of which four 
dresses were made and sold for $2.50 each. This was invested 
in domestics, which was made up into underclothing ; and finally, 
from calico and domestics, they passed on to all the articles usu- 
ally seen in a country store. They have never cleared less than 
one hundred and fifty dollars annually, and sometimes a much 
larger sum. 

Several missions have sprung up in connection with our 
church, and previous to the direful pestilence of '78 our Rector 
and his postulants held services at different points for both white 
and colored congregations. 

During that period of darkness and despair those who were 
seeking to live unto the Lord, showed that they had already 
learned how to die for Him, and they ceased not in their minis- 
try to both dead and dying, till they themselves were stricken 



70 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

down. Three of our brightest and gentlest spirits passed away 
from the scene of earth's labors- to inherit the Crown of Life. 

Our Training School has never recovered from this blow, and 
the congregation of nearly forty souls, which once sat within the 
church, now lie around it. One young girl, whose family had 
belonged previously to the Presbyterian Church, was found by 
her physician, with her prayer-book open on her pillow, and 
blistered with tears. Another of the same family, a fair young 
sister, begged with her dying breath, to be laid nearest the church. 
These belonged to a household of ten, and two only survived. 

In giving the foregoing meager outline of what we have done, 
we shall be more than rewarded for our pains, if we have 
strengthened any weak hand or failing hearts, teaching them not 
to despise small means, but to labor faithfully in that "state of 
life unto which it has pleased God to call them." 

" The Dabney Sisters," 

Per S. D. T. 



PREPARATORY CLASS ROOM. 



Teacher — Who brought the Israelites out of Egypt? 

Pupil — Alexander the Great (!) 

Teacher — State and analyze this problem, " If one bench can 
hold eight boys, how many will five benches hold ? 

Pupil (slightly confused) — If one boy can hold eight benches — 
further analysis stopped by laughter of the others. 

Teacher — Who composed first Latin Triumvirate? 

Pupil — Marcus Aurelius, le Cid Campedor and the Heruli. 



ST. MAET'S MUSE. 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 

Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

fi^^C'orrespondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of A. Williams & Co. 



Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's Shool, Raleigh, N. C. 



A "Vocal Recital" comes off on Saturday evening, 13th 
instant, at 7J o'clock. 

Hattie Morgan and her mother are wintering in the gay 
metropolis of New York. 

Can any one who does not care to file the Muse furnish us 
with one or more copies of the number for June, 1880? 

We have for some time lost sight of our dear old friend 
Georgia Fowlkes. Can any one inform us of her whereabouts ? 

Whispers of a Thanksgiving entertainment by the Kinder- 
garten Buds and Fairies are afloat. Wonder if they mean any- 
thing ? 

The Rev. and Mrs. Smedes have received cards to the 
marriage ceremony of Julia Anderson, of Sewanee, Tenn., and 
Mr. Murdoch. 



72 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Subscriptions to the Muse have come from several old 
scholars. We wish that all of them would remember us in the 
same way. 

Emma Tew ('75) is working most successfully as governess in 
the family of Rev. T. F. Gadsden, at Anderson, S. C. Her 
pupils are the grandchildren of Bishop Gadsden, of honored 
memory. 

Lizzie Harllee solicits the aid of St. Mary's in building a 
church in Marion, S. C. Her personal interest and efforts in so 
good a cause shall certainly be responded to by something more 
substantial than kind words. 

Mrs. Norwood tells elsewhere of her visit to New York, so 
we will only say that she spent a week of much profit and 
pleasure to herself, and prospectively to her class, which is glad 
to have her with them again full of fresh vigor and enthusiasm. 

The article in this number by Miss Minnie Albertson., 
entitled " The Day Before the Flood," was the " Honor Essay " 
of last session, and as such attained the distinction of being read by 
a member of the Senior Class during the exercises of Commence- 
ment Day. 

We are charmed to learn that Annie Sargent talks of coming- 
back in January to devote herself especially to oil painting. 
Those who love pictures will remember the beautiful ones con- 
tributed by her to our art exhibition in June '79. Let us beg- 
that she will not fail to carry out her purpose. 

We have a daintily bound volume on our table entitled the 
St. Mary's Muse, Vol. II. How delightful in future years 
to glance back at the sayings of our humdrum school-life, and 
to have preserved in permanent form, some of the works which, 
may be, cost us many a weary hour's labor, but which gained 
for us an honorable place in the annals of Alma Mater. 

News comes to us from a distant region that Adele Steiner 
has become an accomplished equestrienne. Clever in all she 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 73 

undertakes, we readily believe that in this too she excels among 
the daughters of the " Lone Star State." What is our sweet 
Bessie doing meanwhile? Will she not sing to the soft south 
wind a message of love for us from her bright sunny home ? 

The usual reception complimentary to our annual visitors, the 
" Bingham Boys," was held on Thursday evening of Fair Week. 
The harpers made sweet music, and both girls and boys tripped 
on the light fantastic as only merry-hearted youth can do. On 
Friday the reception of " party callers " and other visitors occu- 
pied most of the day, and study-hour in the afternoon did not 
seem to be welcomed with very great alacrity. 

Died, in Washington City, on September 15th, Mrs. Mary 
Lacy, Lady Principal of Peace Institute. In recording the 
death of Mrs. Lacy, we would express our sincere sympathy for 
our sister institution, which since its foundation has enjoyed the 
teaching and example of that most estimable Christian lady. 
She nobly fulfilled all the duties of a long and useful life, and 
sank to rest calmly and peacefully as one fallen asleep after the 
" long, long weary day" is done. 

Fanny Huger, one of our graduates of last June, has a situ- 
ation in Miss Murden's School, Charleston, S. C. We wish her 
" good luck and good scholars." 

Janet Whitfield, also of the class of '80, is teaching in the 
neighborhood of her home at Jackson, N. C. ; but a little bird 
whispered to us that there is a hope of her returning for the 
Easter Term, in February, in order to secure the diploma which 
she came so near getting in June. We hope the little bird sings 
truly. 

During Miss Norwood's late absence her art pupils were 
aglow with enthusiasm about sketching from nature, she having 
added a stimulus by offering a prize for the best work done in 
that line while she was away. On her return there were so 
many creditable specimens offered for competition that the 
"judges " found it difficult to decide which was the most meri- 



74 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

torious. At last there was a tie between Phoebe McCullous;h 
and Raven Lewis, and the " lot fell upon " the latter. She now 
rejoices in the possession of a beautiful rainature easel and palette, 
which she is decorating according to the most approved modern 
method. 

The good work done by the Calisthenic exercises is daily 
becoming more and more manifest, in the improved bearing of 
our girls. Stooping shoulders are straightened, bent backs are 
becoming more erect; and the muscular development, at St. 
Mary's, promises to keep pace with the intellectual. It is no 
unpleasing sight to watch those rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed 
maidens, drawn out in long ranks and files, under autumn-tinted 
trees, executing the varied motions which bring into play nearly 
every muscle of the body — and all w T ith the precision of soldiers 
on drill, true to the word of command. 

Fair Week, among its many pleasures, brought us none so 
bright and welcome as the visits of our " old girls." Among 
them were Mildred Cameron, Annie Collins, Annie R. and 
Annie E. Jones, Nita Hughes, Mrs. Shober (May Wheat), Mrs. 
Mary (Garrett) Harrison, Mrs. Mary (Rawlinson) Myers, and 
Mrs. Lucy (Moore) Henry, of Kittrells. Some had their hus- 
bands and some their babies to introduce to St. Mary's. Several 
daughters of girls who were here " long, long ago," came to see 
the happy school their mothers had told them so much about; 
and lots of future aspirants for scholastic honors came to lay in 
a store of memories wherewith to feed their hopes meanwhile. 

The success of our sewing school is an assured fact. Already 
it promises excellent results. Under the direction of one of our 
resident ladies, who is very proficient in that line, some of 
the best workers have formed a class in dress-making. 
Others with equal zeal and deftness are turning their atten- 
tion to embroidery, under the guidance of Mrs. Iredell, and 
are doing very pretty work. Plain sewing, button-holes, 
darning, mending, &c, occupy the large body of " preps," but 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 75 

some very pretty baby frocks for " little sisters" are under way, 
and their puffs and frills, and tucks and edgings, show that plain 
work is not to be despised by the most rigid rule of esthetics. 

The dear festival of All Saints was celebrated in St. Mary's 
Chapel with full choral service and celebration of the Holy 
Communion. The autumn woods were robbed of their richest 
tinted offerings for the decorations appropriate to the day. The 
leaves of the forest, so brilliant in their varied hues, so surpass- 
ingly beautiful in death, teach our hearts one of nature's sweetest 
lessons. Emblems, they are of the perfected beauty of God's 
saints when the frosts of death have removed them from this world, 
each dwelling in our memory, glorified by some peculiar grace 
or individual charm, which makes us thank God upon every 
remembrance of them, and thrill our hearts with earnest aspira- 
tion as we join in the beautiful Collect for All Saints' Day. 

The most interesting feature of the late State Fair was the 
" Bingham Boys," who won golden opinions from all by their 
fine carriage, their military skill, and especially by their most 
excellent conduct. In compliment to St. Mary's they had a 
special drill in front of our buildings, which teachers and pupils, 
gents and boys, seemed to enjoy alike. On Thursday their field- 
movements on the Fair Grounds, their volley-firing and their 
splendid skirmish drill, were pronounced by competent judges to 
be the most perfect exercises of the kind ever witnessed in the 
State. And yet the military is secondary to the civil and literary, 
and is used for the leverage it gives in furthering the main 
objects of the school. More than ever before, Bingham's is the 
place where our best people send their sons, as a glance at the 
roll of its patrons shows. The school has been steadily increas- 
ing in numbers, in area of patronage, and in reputation, till the 
Catalogue of 1880 will contain nearly or quite two hundred and 
fifty names, representing an area from Massachusetts, Wisconsin 
and Missouri on the North to Florida and Texas on the South, 
and reaching out to South America, Europe and Asia. As 
North Carolinians, we rejoice to see this school ahead of any simi- 



76 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

lar enterprise in the whole South in numbers, and in area of 
patronage, ahead of any school of any grade, as far as we can 
hear, in the whole Union. 

Our editorial table assumes quite a business air with so 
many attractive looking exchanges scattered about among its pens, 
ink, paper, &c., &c. First of all there's the South Atlantic, 
which since its enterprising move to Baltimore "dresses up" so 
stylishly, and displays such a tempting bill of fare, that we 
are more than ever proud of its acquaintance. Then comes the 
Ooncordiensis, whose classic name suggests its relationship to 
Union College, Schenectady ; it is the brightest and spiciest of visi- 
tors. We send friendly greetings to No. 1 of the Oxonian, with 
special acknowledgment of the pretty compliment to the Muse 
that graces its ninth page. We shrewdly guess whose is the 
flattering pen that tempts our " innocent " hearts to vanity, and 
herewith extend an invitation to a personal acquaintance at our 
Commencement Exercises in June, '81. The Oxonian promises 
to be one of our most readable and edifying exchanges. We 
extend to it the right hand of fellowship, and hope it will make 
its appearance regularly. The Salem Academy is ever welcome 
as an old friend. Its success in stirring up from the dim past 
so many records of former pupils is cheering to us in our 
endeavor to do the same. Where is the Madisonian, that has 
for so long been on friendly terms with the Muse? The 
Musical Record, published by Oliver Ditson & Co., Boston, is 
sent regularly to the school ; the Muse appreciates it, however, 
and considers it the most readable and most instructive musical 
paper in America. We should be pleased to receive music for 
review from the various music houses. 

Brim full of school-girl fun and patriotic fervor, our girls 
made election day the occasion of a unique jollification. The 
Hancockites, who were of course strongest in numbers, availed 
themselves of recreation hour to do, we venture to say, the 
quickest political work that was ever accomplished. In an in- 
credibly short time a Democratic Club was organized— Hancock, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 77 

English, Jarvis and Smedes placards of enormous size were fast- 
ened upon every conspicuous part of their dresses ; and a long 
procession, headed by a banner of gay device, marched about with 
all the pomp and circumstance of (prospective) triumph. Sun- 
dry instruments of unmelodious music were improvised; dis- 
jointed members of old stove pipe, discarded tin pans, &c, with 
occasionally the faintest sound of a stringed instrument in the 
hands of an embryo violinist, made din enough to rally every 
laggard, and rouse the wildest enthusiasm. (Blessings on the 
seclusions of our dear old grove, which gives us freedom to make 
merry after our own fashion, with no fear of the proprieties.) 
So round and round they marched, and lustily they cheered, and 
the leaders made speeches heavy with patriotism, and proudly all 
assured themselves that their cause was safe. Meanwhile the 
Garfield sympathizers looked small and sad in their minority. 
But alas for human hopes ! the next evening, when the wires had 
flashed Garfield's victory throughout the length and breadth of 
the land, the cases were reversed. Crestfallen and grief-stricken 
these same Hancockites, led by their President, and all clad in 
sombre habiliments of woe, marched in slow and measured tread 
to the strains of a solemn dirge to celebrate the funeral of dear 
hopes and a " lost cause." While, tempora mutantur, &c, 
behold the Garfield quintette, all jubilant with victory achieved, 
gaily waving their banners and singing their songs of triumph, 
and in the joy of to-day forgetting all the griefs of yesterday. 
Only one comfort remained to soothe the afflicted H-ites, and in 
that all could make common cause ; for was not St. Mary's 
candidate victorious, however the rest might be ; and in shouts of 
" George and St. Mary's forever," all wounds were healed and 
differences forgotten. Such fun even these halls, where " mirth 
and youthful jollity," &c, have so often reigned, have seldom 
witnessed. To be sure some marks did "come down " the next 
day, but what brother, father or other lord of creation doesn't 
let his business go to the winds on election day? and shall any 
cast a stone of censure at us for taking our tiny part in the gen- 
eral excitement ? Happily, it comes only once in four years, and 
that isn't more than once in many a girl's (school) life time. 



78 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



ALUMNJE MEETING. 



The special meeting of the Alum use Association which was 
announced for Wednesday of Fair Week, was duly held in the 
large parlor of the school. The ladies present manifested great 
earnestness and zeal, and several important measures were 
adopted : 

The Association now numbers over one hundred members, 
most of whom have paid in the annual fee for 1880. 

(1 .) It was decided that the delinquents should receive a gentle 
reminder of their remissness, and be urged to greater promptness 
in future. 

(2.) Agents were appointed in various prominent localities to 
collect names of all former pupils resident in their neighborhood, 
and solicit from them subscriptions and donations to the funds of 
the Association. 

(3.) The subject of honorary and life membership, with their 
conditions, was broached, but the question was left open for dis- 
cussion at the annual meeting on June 9th, 1881. 

(4.) Every member was urged to make special efforts to secure 
an unusually full attendance at that time, with a view to estab- 
lishing a great triennial reunion of members living at a dis- 
tance; it being understood, however, that interest in the annual 
meetings on the part of all who can conveniently attend shall 
not thereby be in any degree lessened. 

(5.) As the Treasurer's report showed a sufficient amount was 
on hand to justify the Association in beginning the work which 
they have undertaken, viz. : " the education of the daughter or 
sister of some old schoolmate," it was therefore 

" Resolved, That announcement shall be made in the next 
Muse, of our readiness to receive applications from suitable 
parties who would like to avail themselves of the advantages 
offered by the Alumnse Scholarship, with such information as 
may be needed by applicants." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 79 

In accordance with this resolution we are directed to state that 
applicants will be received to December 20th, when the advisory 
committee will be called together to decide between the claims 
of the competitors, and that in awarding the scholarship, certain 
points, hereinafter mentioned, will be taken into consideration. 
The applicant must be (a) a baptized member of the church ; 
(b) a child of good moral and intellectual status ; (c) unable to 
procure in any other way, either wholly or partially, the means 
necessary for a sound Christian education ; (d) have an earnest 
purpose so to profit by the advantages offered her as to become 
qualified to earn her own support in days to come; (e) furnish a 
sufficient amount for all personal outlays, i. e., washing, text- 
books, sheet-music, and other incidental expenses. If possible, 
the funds of the Association must be supplemented by the aid of 
friends and other private resources, and the amount so con- 
tributed shall go far towards strengthening the claims of an 
applicant. 

Every educational advantage the school affords will be open to 
her, and any talent she develops will receive special care and 
cultivation. Copies of the Muse for May, 1880, containing full 
particulars of the organization and proposed work of the Asso- 
ciation will be furnished to those interested. 

Sisters of St. Mary's, beloved friends and old school-mates, 
from what has been said, you will readily see that it is a work of 
no common interest or weight that we have undertaken, and its 
success must not be hazarded by our indifference or neglect, and 
demands our steady, earnest interest and effort. Ours is a sacred 
trust, and a sacred cause. Let us see to it that our zeal in its 
behalf does not flag, that our devotion to Alma Mater, and our 
loving reverence for its sainted founder, inspire us not only with 
a noble, generous impulse, but with that far higher and more 
effective grace, steadfastness in good works. Let all whose eyes 
rest on this, and who have not yet enrolled their names as mem- 
bers of the " Alumna? Association of St. Mary's," send them 
without delay, and join our band. Let each one who has 
already become a member, find one or more who has not done so, 



80 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

and induce them to swell our number. And let us swell our 
Treasury by the annual fee of $1, by donations of larger amounts, 
and by soliciting in behalf of the great cause of Christian educa- 
tion, contributions and legacies from wealthy and benevolent 
people. So may we look forward hopefully to the permanent 
endowment of our scholarship, and feel that as long as the State 
of North Carolina exists, so long shall her Diocesan School be 
furnishing intellectual and spiritual training to an orphan or 
needy daughter of some one or more of her number. 



ART NOTES IN NEW YORK. 



Among the Pictures. — The lovely October days, which in 
the country bring so many quiet thoughts born of dreamy 
skies and tinted forests, and silent falling down of dying leaves, 
carry to the city only the golden brightness of their sunshine 
and the invigorating breath of their autumn breezes. All there 
is Life and Motion. Busy footsteps hurry with a firmer tread 
on the crowded pavements, as the great living stream pulsates 
through the streets with unceasing ebb and flow. The sunlight 
finds no tinted foliage, but glances back from crystal palaces 
which reveal all the wonders of fairy land. 

Here are graceful bronzes and vases with a background of 
satin tapestry, heavily embroidered. 

Diamonds gleam on their velvet cushions, and wrought gold 
takes enchanting shapes, and twines itself in sinuous rivulets of 
light. Here is a display of delicate tinted porcelain, fresh from 
the touch of some skillful artist, and there is a bewildering ex- 
hibition of silk and satin fabrics, whose texture gleams with gold 
thread, amid the richest blending of colors. 

And then the Pictures ! Never before was New York so rich 
in Art. Even to speak of it all would be a work of time, but 
to describe such a world of beauty is simply impossible. We 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 81 

can only mention things here and there. As to modern paint- 
ings, the salesrooms and galleries of Knoedler & Co., (Goupils), 
and Wm. Schaus, exhibit a collection of pictures by the first 
and best of European Artists, that gives one a high idea of the 
taste of New York picture buyers. 

At Knoedler's there are beautiful examples of the works of 
Corot, Millet, Diaz, Fortuny and Troyon. Constant's "Judith" 
is there also, and a small picture by Rosa Bonheur, speaking for 
itself instantly, with that well-known look of life and reality 
which cannot be mistaken. 

When we think of the place which these painters occupy in 
the art world of Europe, and how eagerly their works are sought 
for there, w r e must believe that New York people know how to 
appreciate excellence in art, or we would not see these pictures 
for sale here. 

Two little landscapes by Ciceri, though unpretending, still 
hold their place securely among the works of more distinguished 
artists. 

The coloring in the painting by Diaz, called " Nymphs and 
Cupids," reminds one of the days of Tintoretto and Paul Vero- 
dese. The flesh tints are soft and warm, and exceedingly pure 
in tone, and the drawing very graceful. The tout ensemble is 
a combination of warmth, grace and softness. 

The beautiful and suggestive vagueness of Corot, and the 
breadth and strong truthfulness of Millet's style find devoted 
admirers, but nothing as yet has been able to supersede with the 
general public the small, highly finished pieces of the school rep- 
resented by Messonier and Gerome, and their host of imitators. 
In M. Knoedler's gallery is a little Messonier, six by four inches, 
which is valued at more than seven thousand dollars, and will no 
doubt soon find a purchaser. 

The delicate finish of the smaller pictures and their life-like 
reality seem to have a fascination for modern art-lovers which 
nothing can dispel. 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art is going on steadily in its 
work of gathering riches and gleaning from the art treasures 



82 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

of the world. ' This gallery has been made familiar to us by the 
illustrated periodicals of New York, but there is now a new loan 
collection just arranged in the east gallery, which forms an ad- 
ditional attraction. 

Among the best of the old paintings were some fine old pic- 
tures belonging to General Leaventhorpe of North Carolina. 

The Lenox gallery we found to be one of the most interesting 
in the city. The collection of paintings, together with a very 
valuable library and j the elegant building which contains both, 
was given to the city by the late James Lenox — a most magnifi- 
cent gift. 

There are several paintings by Landseer, four by Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, one by Gainsborough, two by Turner, and others, 
very fine, by painters too numerous to mention. A lovely little 
Verboeckhoven, a sheep with twin lambs, almost made you 
forget the claims of higher art. No one else can paint so much 
beauty in such a subject. The portraits by Reynolds are very 
line and the warm, harmonious coloring has received an addi- 
tional charm from the softening touch of time, yet there was one 
other portrait painted by Sir Henry Raeburn, which seemed to 
surpass them all in a certain indefinable grace and beauty of ex- 
pression — a sort of soul that the artist has infused into it and 
which appeals to the deeper feelings of the heart. You look 
again and again, and wonder what it is in the quiet eyes, and 
the restful, yet expectant attitude, that makes you search for some 
clue to the unknown thoughts which filled the young heart and 
yet were closely hidden there. There were also some illuminated 
manuscripts on vellum which were enough to set an antiquary 
crazy, and some beautiful paintings on porcelain, but about the 
time we were getting lost among all these treasures, the noiseless 
footsteps of the Librarian came near as he gently began to close 
the doors, so we reluctantly gave up further research, as we do 
now, and made our adieux. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, December, 1880. No. 4. 



FIRST LOVE. 



There's a sweet little flower that blooms in the spring, 
When skies are the brightest, and wild warblers sing 

Their merriest lay ; 
But thick in its pathway grows many a thorn, 
And the whispering zephyr sighs 'round it forlorn 

Like a lover all day. 

'Tis a delicate flower, the dullness of night 
Will cast o'er its leaflets a withering blight 

That Time cannot cure; 
The pitiless storm with its wild, howling wind, 
A glance from old winter, a whisper unkind, 

It cannot endure. 

Some kind one must cherish, some kind hand must nourish 
Its first tender buddings, or ne'er will it flourish, 

Or bloom 'neath the sky ; 
That spirit, its head must protect from the storm, 
That gentle one shield it from danger and harm, 

Or quickly 'twill die. 

This flower is love, tho' pure is its birth 

And it buds in that garden, the fairest of earth, 

There are thorns in its way ; 
A glance of unkindness, a cold word or look, 
Will freeze up its current, as winter the brook, 

Will wither its leaf in a day. 



86 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Neglected 'twill die, but if cherished 'twill bloom 
And gladden the air with the sweetest perfume, 

To the heart bringing joy ; 
In smiles if it blossoms, in beauty 'twill live ; 
No storm to its colour a blackness can give, 

No winter destroy. 



"THE PRISONERS OF THE CAUCASUS:' 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF X. DE MAISTRE. 



(continued.) 



If Ivan had now proceeded with his undertaking, a hand to 
hand combat would have become inevitable ; the alarm would 
have been given, which it was so necessary to avoid ; but his 
presence of mind saved him. 

When he perceived the Major's excitement, and saw Ibrahim 
rise, he placed the hatchet behind the same block of wood on 
which the latter sat, and commenced to dance. " Play, zounds !" 
said he to his master; "of what are you thinking?" The 
Major seeing how imprudent he had been, began to play softly. 
The old jailor had no suspicions, but he ordered them to end the 
music and go to sleep. Ivan quietly went to take the guitar 
case, and came to place it on the hearth ; but instead of receiv- 
ing the instrument which his master handed him, he suddenly 
seized the hatchet behind Ibrahim, and dealt him such a terrible 
blow on the head that the unfortunate man fell dead without a 
groan. His head fell in the fire, and his long grey beard began 
to blaze. Ivan dragged him out by the feet, and covered him 
with a mat. He was listening to find if the woman had been 
awakened, when, no doubt, astonished at the silence which 
reigned after so much noise, she opened the door of her room : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 87 

" What are you doing there ?" said she, advancing towards the 
prisoners ; " whence comes the odor of burnt feathers ?" The 
fire had fallen down, and gave scarcely any light. Ivan raised 
the hatchet to strike her ; she had time to turn her head, and 
received the blow in her breast, while she uttered a frightful 
scream; another blow, swift as lightning, struck her in its 
descent, and threw her lifeless body at the feet of Kascambo. 
Shocked at this second murder, which he had not effected, the 
Major seeing Ivan advance towards the child's room, placed him- 
self before him in order to stop him. "Where are you going, 
wretch?" said he, "can you have the cruelty to sacrifice this 
child also, who has shown me so much friendship? If you 
would deliver me at that price, neither your attachment nor your 
services can save you, when we arrive at the line." 

"At the line," replied Ivan, "you may do wdiat you wish; 
but here it is necessary to finish this business." Kascambo, 
summoning all his strength, seized him by the collar, as he 
wished to force his way : " Miserable fellow," said he, " if you 
dare to attempt his life, if you touch one hair of his head, I 
swear here before God that I will deliver myself into the hands 
of the Tchetchenges, and your barbarity will be useless." 

" Into the hands of the Tchetchenges !" repeated the denchik, 
raising his bloody hatchet over the head of his master ; "they 
will never take you alive; I will kill them, you and myself 
before that happens. This child can destroy us by giving the 
alarm ; and in your condition, the women are sufficient to put 
you again in prison." 

" Stop ! stop ! " cried Kascambo, whose hands Ivan was trying 
to unclasp. " Stop, monster, you must kill me before you com- 
mit the crime." But feeble as he was, and incumbered with 
chains, he could not hold the fierce young man, who pushed him 
off, and he fell heavily on the floor, ready to faint with surprise 
and horror. He endeavored to rise, and cried, " Ivan, I pray 
you do not kill him ! in the name of God, do not shed the blood 
of this innocent creature !" As soon as possible he ran to rescue 
the child, but on reaching the door, he met Ivan returning. 



88 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

" Master, all is over ; do not lose any time, and do not make 
any noise. I say, do not make any noise," replied he to his 
master's despairing reproaches. " What is done is done, and we 
must not hesitate. Until we are free, every man I meet shall 
die, or shall kill me, and if any one enters here before we leave, 
I care not if it be man, woman or child, friend or enemy, I will 
stretch them beside the others." He lit a splinter of larch, and 
began to fumble in the cartridge-box and the pockets of the 
jailor ; the key of the fetters was not found there ; he also sought 
it vainly in the dress of the woman, in a chest, and every- 
where that he imagined it might have been hidden. While 
he made these investigations the Major abandoned himself with- 
out prudence, to his grief. Ivan consoled him in his way. 
" You had much better," said he to him, " cry for the key which 
is lost. Why do you grieve for this company of brigands who 
have tormented you for more than fifteen months? They 
wished to murder us. Well, their turn has come before ours. 
Is it my fault? May the infernal regions swallow them all? 

However, so many murders were useless, as the key could not 
be found, unless they succeed in breaking the fetters. Ivan, with 
the edge of the hatchet, began to break the hand-cuff, but the 
chains which bound the feet resisted all his efforts ; he feared to 
wound his master, and feared to use all his strength. Besides, 
as the night was advancing and the danger became great, they 
decided to leave. Ivan fastened the chain to the girdle of his 
master, so that it would not hurt him, and so as to make as little 
noise as possible. He put in the knap-sack a quarter of mutton, 
the remains of last night's repast, besides other provisions, and 
armed himself with a pistol and a poinard. Kascambo took 
his borka; they left silently, and in order to avoid any encoun- 
ter, they took the road to the mountains instead of the direct 
route to Mosdok, foreseeing that pursuit would be in that direc- 
tion. They wandered during the rest of the night over the 
heights to their right, and when day appeared, they entered into 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 89 

a beech-wood, which surrounded the top of the mountain and 
saved them from the danger of being seen at a distance. It was 
in the month of February. The earth on the heights, and espe- 
cially in the woods, was covered with a hard snow, which sus- 
tained their steps during the night and part of the morning ; 
but towards mid-day, when it was melted by the sun, they sank 
in it at each step, and their progress was rendered very slow. 

They reached thus painfully the edge of a deep valley, which 
they were to cross, and in the bottom of which the snow had dis- 
appeared. A well-worn road followed the windings of a stream 
and showed that the neighborhood was inhabited. This discov- 
ery and the fatigue of the Major decided the travelers to remain 
here until night-fall. They established themselves between some 
rocks from which the snow had melted. 

Ivan cut some fir branches to make the Major a bed on the 
snow. While he rested Ivan tried to discover their whereabouts. 
The valley on the side of which he found himself was sur- 
rounded by high mountains, from which he saw no outlet. He 
saw that it was impossible to avoid the beaten road, and that it 
would be necessary to follow the course of the stream in order to 
get out of the labyrinth. It was about eleven o'clock at night, 
and the snow had begun to harden, when they descended into 
the valley. But before they set out they set fire to their couches 

in order to warm themselves, and to make a little dish of 

» 

chislik, of which they were in great need. A handful of snow 
served them as their beverage, and a drink of brandy finished 
the feast. They traversed the valley safely, without meeting any 
one, and entered the defile, where the road and stream were 
enclosed between the high mountain peaks. 

They marched as rapidly as possible, well knowing the danger 
they ran in meeting any one in this narrow passage, from which 
they emerged about nine o'clock in the morning. Then the 
gloomy defile suddenly opened to the view, and they discovered 
at the foot of the lower range of mountains before them, the 
immense horizon of Russia, looking like a distant ocean. 

[to be continued.] 



90 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



NOTRE TABLE FBNQAISE. 



En venant a l'ecole, une des choses qui me semblait la plus terrible etait 
cette Table Francaise ! Est il possible que nons devons parler Francais a table ! 
Alors je rnourrai de faim fut latriste pensee qui remplit mon esprit. Eh bien 
me suis-je dit en regardant cette table si redoutee ellc n'a rien d'extraordinaire 
elle n'a rien de remarquable, C'est tout a, fait une table ordinaire ! Telles 
furent, mes impressions, au premier abord, mais seulement au premier abord, car 
j'ai bient6t trouve, que je devais la considerer sous un point de vue tout a fait 
different. 

Non pas la table elle m§rue, mais les demoiselles qui formaient cette table, 
eta laquelle j'eu l'honneur de m'asseoir. Helas les terribles animositees entre 
elles et contre les institutrices ! quelque fois c'etait, " oh comme je meprise 
celle ci, on celle la, et souvent elles me'prisaient tout le monde sans exception. 

Le vendredi qui £tait le jour noir pour nous, c'etait encore bien pis, et la 
pauvre table entendait des murmures de toutes sortes, en francais bien entendu 
mais du francais qui n'e"tait pas tonjours conforme anx regies -de Noel et Chap- 
sal. " Notre pauvre Mademoiselle 6tait quelque fois au desespoir car ce me- 
lange de Francais etd' Anglais faisait un jargon a dechirer le coeur d'une insti- 
tutrice. II etait des fois incomprehensible meme a celles qui s'en servait et 
alors suivait une explication en bon Anglais quand les oreilles de Mademois- 
elle etaient fermees. 

Mais ne pensez, pas que nous ne parlions jamais francais oh oni ! oh, oui ! 
parceque la regie nous y obligeait, et qu'il fallait examiner sa conscience le 
soir quand l'appel se faisait ; cette pauvre table, cette bete noire a toutes celles 
qui ne la connaissent pas perd petit a petit toute son horreur et devient la 
place ou toutes les langues se delient et ou chacnne jette son petit mot, si ce 
n'est que " passez ce pain s'il vous plait." Cette phrase ci, est la phrase, si 
vons etes fach^e c'est " passez" et, si vons etes contente c'est " passey" et c'est 
toujours la premiere que l'on apprend a dire, Mais la po'itesse des demoiselles 
ne leur, permet jamais d'oublier ce qu'ellesse doivent l'une a l'autre. 

Eh bien Imescheres amies si jamais vous avez lebonbeurde venir aSte Marie 
ne vons faites pas en imagination une bete fioire de notre Table Franfaise 
mais an contraire attendez vous a trouver l'instruction unie a la gaietee. 
Venez et sovez les brien venues. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 91 



PREHISTORIC ART. 



Before beginning my lecture, young ladies, I must tell you 
that I do not attempt, in these short talks on art, to give you any- 
thing like a complete treatise on the subject. 

It is the province of a lecture to be suggestive, rather than 
exhaustive. We cannot explore all the wide field which lies so 
invitingly before us, but we may gain some valuable hints as to 
the best manner of doing it, and if I can suggest some of the 
best paths of thought, and awaken sufficient interest to induce 
you to make further research, then my object will be attained. 

It is generally believed, among those who have given most 
attention to the subject, that the arts of painting and sculpture 
were first cultivated by the Egyptians; though there are some 
who attribute the first attempts in marble to the Chaldeans, while 
they accord the art of coloring to the Greeks. 

When we consider the condition of many of the master-pieces 
of painting of the sixteenth eentury, and see how rapidly they 
are fading and passing away, we may easily imagine the impossi- 
bility of findiug any remains of the works of painters who lived 
three thousand years ago. I mean any relics of. pictures such as we 
would now consider real art — paintings which had harmony of 
color, delicacy of finish, and life-like expression. The finer 
forms of sculpture, though more enduring, are also frail and 
perishable, and yield rapidly to the corroding touch of time, so 
we may conclude that our theories in regard to the state of the 
fine arts among the oldest nations of the earth must be founded 
, more upon conjecture, and the traditions handed down by the 
earliest writers, than upon any evidences which exist at the present 
day. But while we cannot expect to learn many particulars in 
regard to art and its rise and progress among the Egyptians and 
Chaldeans, we may, with good reason, suppose that the art of de- 
sign, which is the soul of both painting and sculpture, did exist 



92 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

in the infancy, so to speak, of our race. When God made man 
in his own image, He made him not only God-like in beauty 
and in power, but also endowed with all those high faculties which 
more distinctly announce the divine origin of the human soul. 
The powers of imagination and invention, of perception and 
intuition, which go to make up what we call genius, are among 
the highest endowments of the human mind, and have existed 
in it from the beginning, since no mind is perfect without them. 
And if man was thus endowed from his birth with creative facul- 
ties, which were a faint reflection of the boundless creative power 
of God, so he would be instinctively led to exercise them, and 
to make new combinations of beautiful forms, and new designs 
to express the love of beauty which illumined his soul. 

At the same time he would not want for the most exquisite 
models for his study and imitation. The earth, fresh from the 
hands of her Creator, glowed with the loveliest colors, and 
teemed with inexhaustible riches of natural beauty, even as now. 
The same purity of transparent blue was in her skies, the same 
rainbow tints were in her clouds, and the same " bright waves of 
Ocean dashed their sun-dyed jewels on her shores." We can 
therefore easily believe that there were, in those days, artists who 
sought to embody their dreams, and visions of loveliness and 
grace. In the long period between man's creation and the del- 
uge — a period whigeh some chronologists think was as long as 
that which has elapsed since the flood — men evidently attained to 
considerable proficiency in some of the arts, and if Bel us, son 
of Nimrod, only two hundred years after the flood, set up the 
statue which, in after times, gave birth to idolatry, his knowledge 
of sculpture must have come down to him from the ante-diluvian 
time. His renowned daughter-in-law, Semiramis, is said to have 
had golden statues made of herself, her husband and various- 
members of her family, which would show the existence of por- 
trait-sculpture also, at that time, and that casting figures in bronze 
w T as well understood. But before speaking of Assyrian and 
Babylonian art, we should first direct our eyes to the much older 
relics which have come down to us from the past ages of the land 
of the Nile. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 93 

"Time," says an old writer, "sadly overcometh all things; he 
sitteth on the Sphinx, and gazeth on the ruins of Memphis, and 
Old Thebes, gloriously triumphing, and turning all glories into 
dreams." It would seem, however, that even time had resolved 
to spare the great monuments of Egypt, and leave the Sphinx 
to gaze with the same sad, earnest eyes upon centuries to come, 
even as it has watched the passing of the generations from the 
unknown date of its birth, lost in the twilight of ages, until now. 
Oldest of the nations of the earth, the Egyptians have left us 
the most enduring monuments of their existence, and from the 
remotest period seemed determined to live in the minds of suc- 
ceeding generations. But monolith, and column, and temple 
have, for the most part lapsed into silence, and have become to 
us as dead and voiceless as the masses of granite that still sleep 
in the everlasting hills. The Great Pyramid remains to us what 
it was to Joseph, the Ruler of Egypt under Pharaoh, an object 
of wonder and veneration, but to all our questions it answers 
neither "why" nor "when." We know not who built it, nor 
why it was so wonderfully constructed, and near it the still older 
Sphinx keeps well the mystery of its own birth, and the un-re- 
vealed record of long forgotten history. Perhaps among other 
wonders of this marvelous age we shall yet see the riddle solved, 
and the veil lifted from the shadowy past, while the great, calm 
idol will condescend to break the spell of silence and tell of those 
old days before Cheops was born. At present, however, the 
science of Egyptology is in its infancy, and liable to exhibit unex- 
pected changes and developments. The researches of modern 
travelers have overturned many a theory which was at one time 
accepted, and any day a new, or rather an exceedingly old 
Papyrus may be discovered which will upset the labored calcu- 
lations, and dissolve the visions of the most industrious of even 
our students and explorers. It becomes us, therefore, still to 
speak with due hesitation and deference in the presence of these 
old dwellers by the Nile, who know so much and tell so little, 
and not to make many rash assertions about them. We should 



94 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

rather wait, and hope a time will come when they, too, will 
begin to yield to the spirit of our restless age. 

Oars is pre-eminently an age of investigation and discovery, 
and the irrepressible Anglo-Saxon of the nineteenth century, 
whose nation was born but yesterday, does not hesitate to inter- 
view the embalmed majesty of ancient Egypt, and demand that 
he shall give account of himself and his family relations. Our 
ubiquitous modern reporter makes his bow to the lofty obelisk 
which the old Theban king has grandly challenged him to 
destroy; he dives into the recesses of tombs, and works his way, 
like a mole, into the vast mounds which bury the ruins of Nine- 
vah and Babylon, and he fearlessly enters the great pyramid, 
studying curiously the mysterious lines and tracings on the walls. 
Everywhere he demands to be answered. Old kings and their 
tombs, obelisks and pyramids, mounds and temples, he thinks, 
are quite in his line, and he endeavors, w r ith great energy, to make 
a sensation among these old survivors of a vanquished world. He 
considers their pride and reserve quite out of date, and he urges 
them to give up their hieroglyphics and nail-heads, and learn 
to discourse in good English on the machinery of their day, and 
the building of their cities and things, even if they don't remem- 
ber exactly why and when it was done. 

How far these persevering efforts wall be rewarded remains to 
be seen, but at present we are left in great doubt as to prominent 
historical facts and dates, and while there is so much uncertainty 
in regard to these, we cannot expect, as I said before, to glean 
many particulars in regard to the exact status of the arts in 
ancient Egypt. 

It is natural to suppose that a nation like the Egyptians, which 
reached such a high standard in other departments of knowledge 
and skill, should also have had its artists who attained a corre- 
sponding degree of perfection, but the evidences of their pro- 
ficiency which have survived to our day, leaves us still in doubt 
as to whether they may, or may not, have excelled. 

The paintings and sculpture which have come down to us, are 
nearly all historical, and it is not the object of ancient historical 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 95 

painting to express the idea of beauty. Clearness and conciseness 
are chiefly sought for, and ideas are expressed in the simplest way. 
The figures of the warrior and the king become conventional 
forms, and are repeated in the same stiff and monotonous way, 
again and again. In fact, for two thousand years it is said that 
any innovations in art were strictly forbidden, and the artists 
worked under the direction of the priests, who monopolized this 
as well as other branches of study. But previous to this period 
of art in fetters, it is thought there was an epoch when it had 
life and freedom, and perhaps if some of the paintings of those 
days could be found in some hidden treasure-house, we should 
see something approaching our standard of ideal art. To this 
older art-period is thought to belong the wooden statue of one 
Raemke, which, according to M. Mariette (one of the first among 
Egyptologists), should be attributed to the fifth dynasty, or nearly 
4000 B. C. The body of this statue is well modelled, and the 
whole very much superior to the stiff forms which prevailed 
afterwards. This primitive art-period expired with the sixth 
dynasty, and from the eleventh dynasty, or formation of the 
Middle Empire, about three thousand years before Christ, Egyp- 
tian artists formed a sort of hereditary craft, controlled by a rigid 
code of rules, prescribed by the sacerdotal authority. The stand- 
ard types of form were Archaic in character and deficient in 
action and expression. And under these conditions the results 
were so uniform as to justify the statement that for nearly two 
thousand eight hundred years there was but one epoch in Egyp- 
tian sculpture. After this came the period of Grseco-Egyptian 
art, which came in with the Ptolemies, and lasted until the ex- 
tinction of the empire. To the first or better epoch belong the 
wall-paintings on the tomb of Tih, near Memphis. Tih was a 
priest who lived in the days of the fifth dynasty, and the walls 
of his tomb are covered with an immense number of figures in 
relief, and with paintings which illustrated the life of Egypt at 
that remote period. From these delineations it seems to have 
been a happy, simple life, and the nation well-to-do. The caves 
of Beni-Hassan, near the Nile and about two hundred miles above 



96 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Cairo/ have also yielded a rich harvest to the Egyptologists, but 
the paintings in them belong to the twelfth dynasty. When we 
remember that Joseph came to Egypt during the seventeenth 
dynasty, we will see that these paintings are quite old enough to 
command our respectful attention. They, too, portray the daily 
life of the people, and picture it peaceful and comfortable. 

In these caves, the traveler sees, to his surprise, the Doric 
column make its first appearance in the world. The tombs of 
the kings, near the ruius of Thebes, sometimes called the cata- 
combs of Thebes, form another great series of cave-like tombs. 
They are on the western side of the Nile, near the remains of 
the ancient city and are approached through a long ravine, as 
wild and rocky as a gorge of the Rocky Mountains. You wind 
upward, higher and higher, among the bare rocks, glaring in the 
sunlight — which only once in ten years or so ever feel the effect 
of a cooling shower — and after three miles of climbing you reach 
the caves. For a long time Thebes was the capital of the Egyp- 
tian empire, and when a Pharaoh came to the throne, besides 
building palaces and adding, perhaps, another temple to the 
city of a hundred gates, he immediately set to work to execute 
a new tomb in the yellow rocks of the Libyan range of hills. 
One of these, that of Sethi I., a king of the nineteenth dynasty, 
is decorated very elaborately, and evidently cost an immense 
amount of labor. It would be vain to attempt a description of its 
extensive drawings and inscriptions. Unlike the caves of Beni- 
Hassan, this one deals with death, rather than life, and the walls 
are full of representations of the tremendous trials of the soul 
after its departure, and of the terrors of the unseen land. 

One of Nero's monstrous diversions was to have a party of 
Nubians and Egyptians act out the scenes portrayed in this tomb, 
as an amusement for the Roman populace. 

The tomb of Osymandyas, which was so minutely described 
by Diodorus, does not appear to have been one of these cave- 
like sepulchers, but a kind of mansoleum built near the Mem- 
nonium. Diodorus says it was encompassed by a band of gold 
which was a cubit in width, and one hundred and sixty-five 



* 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 97 



cubits long. This golden belt was divided into spaces of a cubit 
each, and figures of the sun, moon and stars so arrayed as to 
show the rising and setting of the sun and the motion of the 
planets during the year. The walls were richly decorated with 
sculptures and paintings. These paintings, however, bore little 
resemblance to modern pictures. There was no attempt at 
blending the colors or shading, and no perspective. They con- 
sisted generally of out-lines in one color drawn on a ground of 
another. As yellow out-lines on black, blue on white, &c. 
Blue and green on black, and yellow, &c. We could not expect 
great excellence of design among a people who proscribed music, 
and did not cultivate poetry. But we must not linger too long 
in these mysterious abodes of the departed monarchs. We are 
students of art, and do not at this time propose to yield too much 
to the weird spell which falls on us with the shadow of the 
hollow hill, or be fasinated with the charm that lures the 
antiquary on from one dimly traced emblem to another. 
Art study leads to regions of light and beauty and motion, and 
does not give us time to indulge in silent meditation like Hero- 
dotus, of whom 'tis said : 

"He was a mild old man, who cherished much 
The weight dark Egypt on his spirit laid ; 
And with a sinurons eloquence would touch 
Forever at that haven of the dead." 

We may pause, however, long enough to remark that the 
results of modern discoveries and research have tended to prove 
that Herodotus was not the simple and too credulous old gentle- 
man that some have thought him. So much has been brought 
to light that is truly marvelous, that the waitings of the " Mild 
Old Man" are looked upon with much greater respect than they 
formerly were. It is true that he lived only four hundred and 
forty-five years before Christ, and therefore was a man of yester- 
day, compared with the Theban kings who slept in the catacombs, 
but he traveled in Egypt and conversed with the priests and 
studied the annals of her history before her empire had ever 
succumbed to foreign foes, and become subject to the influence of 



98 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the more modern Greek civilization. If you have studied 
Egyptian history at all, you must remember that Thebes was a 
powerful and magnificent city before Athens was founded or 
Corinth ever heard of, so we may well say the civilization of the 
Greek empire was later. 

In fact it never left many lasting traces in Egypt, whose 
architecture and monuments remain unlike anything except 
themselves. 

But we will now return for a little while to Thebes. Not to 
Thebes the magnificent, full of palaces and temples, whose tall 
obelisks and statues stood grandly majestic amid the crowding 
life of a great and populous city, but to Thebes the silent and 
desolate, Thebes the deserted and overthrown. 

The site of the ancient city is now partly occupied by four 
wretched villages, Luxon and Karnak on the east side of the 
Nile, and Medynot Abou and Gornou on the western banks. 
The temple at Karnak is noted for its magnitude and beauty, 
and on the opposite side of the river we find the ruins of the 
celebrated Memnonium, said by Diodorus to have been erected 
by Osymandyas. 

This Osymandyas is rather a favorite of mine, but I must 
reluctantly admit that he labors under the disadvantage of being 
a doubtful character. Some historians say that he lived 2300 
B. C, others say 2110 B. C., but I would not mind this so much, 
because two hundred years is but a mite in Egyptian chronology, 
if the more modern writers did not go on to damage him further 
by saying in the first place, that he was Sosostris, and Rameses 
II., and secondly, that he never was any body at all. I do not 
understand the methods of study pursued by antiquarians, but 
it does seem to me that they have a discouraging tendency to 
occupy our time with endeavoring to prove that everybody was 
somebody else. In the days of the old Greek writers Herodo- 
tus, Diodorus and Strabo, Sosostris was a great king, who was 
seated as securely on his throne as any monarch of the past, but 
he had the misfortune afterwards to get somewhat mixed up with 
Rameses II., and since then he has been summarily dismissed to 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 99 

the region of myths and shadows, to keep company with Osiris 
and Hercules, and Memnon, the son of Aurora. According to 
Diodorus and others, Osymandyas was a powerful and warlike 
king, who extended his territory, and conquered his enemies, and 
proceeded to embellish his capital city of Thebes with magnifi- 
cent temples, palaces and obelisks. He also had the good taste 
to employ sculptors and painters to beautify these edifices with 
paintings and bas-reliefs and statues. He seems to have been 
far less reserved than the builders of the sphinx and the great 
pyramid, for on the colossal statue of himself he placed this 
inscription : "I am Osymandyas, king of kings, if any man will 
know my greatness and my resting place, let him destroy one of 
my works." Thus he seemed to know who he was, poor fellow, 
and was kind enough to tell us. A large and beautiful statue 
was found at Karnak in 1818, which was thought to be the 
statue of Osymandyas, although the inscription on the pedestal 
was not certainly deciphered. This is now in the museum at 
Turin. It is made of hard, red sandstone, and is one of most 
perfect and largest colossal statues ever brought to Europe from 
Egypt. 

But in spite of this evidence, and of the special claims which 
he has on our regard, Osymandyas has fallen into the hands of 
the investigators, and they do not seem disposed to allow him to 
testify in his own behalf. It is quite possible that he may 
share the fate of Sosostris, and be sent into banishment, while 
all his greatness and his glory will be appropriated by the grasp- 
ing Rameses II. This great Rameses has also some interest for 
us, for he too erected a colossal statue of himself in Thebes on 
the western side of the Nile. This statue, which is now over- 
thrown and lying prostrate and broken, seems to have been more 
conspicuous for its great size than for any artistic excellence 
which it possessed. 

It was, however, no doubt very imposing when it was stand- 
ing or rather sitting upright, and was the largest statue in the 
world. Dean Stanley says of it : " Nothing which now exists in 
the known world can give any notion of what the effect must 



100 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

have been when he was erect. Nero towering above the Colos- 
seum may have been something like it, but he was of bronze, 
and Rameses was of solid granite. Nero was standing without 
any object, Rameses was resting in awful majesty after the con- 
quest of the then known world. No one who entered that 
building, whether it were temple or palace, could have thought 
of anything else but that stupendous being who had thus raised 
himself up above the whole world of gods and men." Rameses 
II. was a man who was evidently ahead of his times. He 
believed in advertising, and he put his own name on buildings 
up and down the land, besides having his victories continually 
celebrated both by pen and pencil during his long reign of sixty- 
six years. I am afraid, however, he had little taste in art. He 
was too fond of bigness, and of making a show, and has been 
accused of magnifying himself more than he deserved after all. 
His great statue was like most of the Egyptian statues, in a sit- 
ting posture with the hands on the knees. In this same western 
part of Thebes, which was once known as the Libyan suburb, 
there are two other objects which will claim our special atten- 
tion. These are two great colossi sitting alone in a sort of level 
plain which is partly covered with ruins, and skirted by the 
yellow hills which surround the city. They were originally 
designed as the entrance to an avenue leading to the temple- 
palace of Amunoph, or Amenophis III., a king of the eighteenth 
dynasty, who reigned about one thousand four hundred years 
before Christ, and they both represent this king. These statues 
are in all, fifty-four feet in height, though at present seven feet 
of earth cover the lower portion. Each was at first of a single 
block, but one of them was at one time shattered down to the 
waist, and subsequently repaired in five blocks. There are tablets 
at the backs bearing hieroglyphic inscriptions, from which we 
learn their history. Miss Harriet Martiman gives us the fol- 
lowing description of them : " The pair sitting alone amidst the 
expanse of verdure, with islands of ruin behind them, grew more 
striking to us every day. To-day, for the first time, we looked 
up at them from their base. The expression of sublime tran- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 101 

quility which they convey when seen from a distance, is con- 
firmed by a nearer approach. There they sit, keeping watch — 
hands on knees, gazing straight forward, seeming, though so 
much of the faces is gone, to be looking over to the monumental 
piles on the other side of the river, which became gorgeous 
temples after these throne-seats were placed here — the most 
immovable thrones that have ever been established on this 
earth !" 

From this account you might be led to suppose that the artists 
of that time had succeeded in giving to their figures an appear- 
ance of majestic repose, and a sublime expression of sadness and 
patience which entitle them to rank as true art. 

Farther reflection, however, will soon show us that this 
expression is something which was bestowed on them by that 
great master, Time, and not given at first by the sculptors who 
created them. When we criticise them as works of art, we 
must detach them from their present surroundings, and deprive 
them of the softening tints of decay, and the interest which is 
shed over them by the subdued touches of a hoary antiquity. 
If we could see copies made of them in freshly hewn sandstone 
or granite, and placed at the entrance of a grand temple whose 
pillars and sculptured walls reflected the mid-day sun, and 
echoed the life and movement of busy streets, we should have a 
better opportunity of deciding their original merit. It is true 
that some critics have thought that the idea of grandeur which 
they convey is much better expressed by their massive breadth 
of form and the simple lines of the drapery, than it would be by 
greater finish and more elaborate details. 

But it is not possible that this effect was intended by the 
sculptor, or that he purposely simplified the details of his work, 
in order that it might be grand, on the contrary, the statues 
were probably brought into existence by laborers working under 
the direction of men whose designs were limited to certain pro- 
scribed and conventional forms. 

One of these colossal figures, the one on the right as you stand 
in front of them, has enjoyed a wonderful celebrity in past 
3 



102 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

times, being no other than that statue of Memnon, the son of 
Aurora, which in the days of Strabo was called the " Vocal 
Statue." This name was given it because after the disaster 
occurred which shattered it down to the middle, many ear-wit- 
nesses declared that sometimes at sunrise, or rather during the 
first hour after sunrise, it gave forth a sound like the breaking 
of a harp-string. 

The accounts of this phenomenon, as transmitted by divers 
pagan writers, are clear and distinct, and form a chain of 
evidence which is very strong. Of course the idea that the 
voice was the result of a miracle was a mere fancy. There are 
many inscriptions on the base of the statue commemorating the 
satisfaction of pilgrims from different lands, who coming to 
" hear Memnon," had not been disappointed. In fact the whole 
lower part of the colossus- is covered with inscriptions from the 
classic times, in Greek or in Latin, in prose and verse. The 
earliest, so far as their dates can be traced, were made in the 
reign of Nero. Among them is one consisting of some Latin 
verses composed by a blue-stocking Roman lady who visited 
Memnon in the train of the Emperor Adrian in 140 A. D. 

A great many travelers, some of princely rank, were attracted 
to the spot, but Memnon was by no means constant in his favors. 
On some mornings the pilgrims were gratified with the expected 
voice, at other times went away disappointed. It was a com- 
mon idea therefore that to hear it was a mark of the special 
favor of the gods. 

Some modern philosophers have thought the sounds were pro- 
duced by some jugglery or deception of the priests, but this is 
not at all probable, and it is far more reasonable to adopt the 
theory of Sir David Brewster, who believed that they were 
caused by the "transmission of rarified air through the crevices of 
the sonorous stone." It is plain that in such a case the phenome- 
non would depend on the varying conditions of temperature or 
the seasons. The restoration of the statue was made about the 
vear of our Lord 200, and since that time Memnon has remained 
utterly silent. The huge stones which were fitted on the half- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 103 

figure seem to have had the effect of extinguishing his voice. 
It is a great pity he had not kept it until the Herald reporter 
could make him a visit and get the benefit of a few communica- 
tions. We should then no doubt be much wiser than we now 
are about these things. There are, of course, many other 
examples of ancient Egyptian art, but most of them will be 
found to exhibit the same characteristics as those which have 
been mentioned. In the department of ornamental work, how- 
ever, we may find some specimens which show a different and 
more delicate style of design. There are some jewels, for 
instance, which King Amosis had made to adorn the mummy of 
his mother, which would do credit to the skill of a Genoese 
Goldsmith. King Amosis lived previous to the time of Moses, 
so you see the old lady had kept her ornaments a long time 
before she enjoyed the opportunity of exhibiting them to us. 
But to continue our researches would rather be trespassing on the 
domains of the archaeologist and neglecting our legitimate studies 
among the early artists of other nations, and so we bid Egypt 
farewell. 



CHRISTMAS SONG. 

(by permission.) 



O World ! ye keep high festival to-day ! 
Your homes and Altars shine in bright display ! 
What wondrous thing do ye commemorate? 
What lofty theme do ye thus celebrate ? 

' Long time ago, in Bethlehem, this night, 

A Child lay in a manger, clothed in light, 

Born of a Virgin, — and by Kings adored ! 

A Prince and Saviour, which was Christ the Lord ! 



104 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

1 For us He lived on earth, for us He died : 
And now in Heav'n He reigneth glorified ! 
All princes, pow'rs and worlds to Him shall bend, 
And of His Kingdom there shall be no end !' 

Grant, Lord, that we Thy servants here 

May faithful be and true ! 
Then when at last Thou dost appear, 

To judge the works we do ; 
We may arise to Life for Aye ; 

And sing the blessed story : 
How once in lowly manger lay 

The Lord, the King of Glory ! 
And Thee, O God, will we adore, 
And praise, and bless, for evermore ! 



"BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM." 



Number Three. 



Mrs. Buford sends us for publication the following letter 
giving a short account of the origin and growth of her unique 
and wonderful mission among the negroes of Brunswick county, 
Va. During her attendance at the great missionary meetings 
recently held in New York and other Northern cities, full infor- 
mation of her work was requested, especially by the " Woman's 
Auxiliary" Associations, which, to our shame be it said, exist only 
in the Northern Dioceses. This letter was written in answer 
to these enquiries, and though it has been already printed for 
circulation there, we do not hesitate to avail ourselves of Mrs. 
B/s permission to publish it, that our Southern friends may 
know how greatly God has # blessed the feeble efforts of one 
weak, but earnest woman. 






ST. MARY'S MUSK 105 

The object of these papers is to set before the daughters of St. 
Mary's examples of what some of their sisters have been 
privileged to do for Xt and His Church, and to stir up 
others to recognize their responsibility and seize their oppor- 
tunities to go and do likewise. And it seems to us that work 
like Mrs. Buford's lies at the very door of every Southern 
woman. Vast fields of labor surround us on all sides; theory 
is audible to every willing ear — " Come over and help us" — the 
reward awaits every faithful, loving soul — " Inasmuch as you 
have done it to one of the least of these, you have done it unto Me" : 

My Dear Mrs. : — You know as well as I do, how im- 
possible and how presumptuous it would be in me to stand up 
before the ladies of your meeting and tell them the beautiful 
story of this poor effort to help the most desolate of God's 
children. So many persons have asked me since I came North, 
how it commenced and grew to its present dimensions, that, even 
at the risk of tiring those who have heard it so often, I will 
write you as briefly and simply as I can, how tenderly and 
lovingly the dear Father's hand has rested on this pitiful work 
from its incipiency, and will, I trust, to the end. 

I am, you know, a Virginia woman, and live in the southern 
portion, just on the borders of North Carolina — a portion of 
country so utterly ruined and desolate, that when I contrast it 
with the beautiful, teeming, prosperous region I have been pass- 
ing through, my eyes are blinded with tears. Ever since I can 
remember, humbly I thank God for it! I have been in the habit 
of teaching the little negroes every Sunday afternoon. My 
father was a large slaveowner, and I, of course, only taught my 
own. But when the four years of bloody agony were over, the 
kindly relations of master and slave were severed, and a gulf 
wide and impassable lay between the white man and the black 
man. He refused to listen to any teachings but those of his 
own wild, incendiary colored leaders. The white man's Bible 
was not for him ; he must walk by inner lights and direct revela- 
tions of the Spirit. We, alas ! "with this blessed Book in our 
hands, did not obey its divine mandates, and the poor negro was 



106 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

left to his wild worship. Numberless sects sprang up ; the most 
numerous was the Zion Union. The founder was an old man 
who shortly after the war came from the North and proclaimed 
himself a new prophet, and succeeded in gaining a wonderful 
influence over the lowest and most abanboned of the plantation 
negroes. They are divided, you know, into two classes, the 
house servants, who are cultivated and educated, in comparison 
to the old plantation negro. Reared on large farms which they 
could not leave without a pass from the overseer, working hope- 
lessly and aimlessly from sunrise to sunset, with no gleam of light 
ever breaking through the midnight darkness of their mental 
night, knowing their masters only by sight, these poor creatures, 
as soon as they were set free, wandered off from the only homes, 
they knew, and with their helpless families drifted from place to 
place until they could rent from the owners a few acres of land, 
for which they promised to pay a fourth of what they made, and 
built their log huts and went to farming, without a dollar, or 
mule, or ax or plough ! 

I cannot think God's blessed sunlight falls on any creatures 
more abjectly poor — more pitiful than they are. These are the 
wretched creatures among whom my weary lot is cast, and whose 
hopeless poverty and wretchedness I see every day. These the 
poor, blind men and women whose immortal souls were starving for 
the bread of life, who received Howell as if he had, indeed, been 
sent from God, and made up his Zion Union Church, and 
swelled its numbers soon to two thousand. Little log huts, 
chinked with red mud, and falsely styled churches, were soon 
dotted over my own county and several adjacent ones. At last 
one was built about a mile from me on a neighboring farm, and 
night was made hideous by the wild shoutings and bowlings of 
their midnight orgies. About five years ago last March or 
April, as I was walking out one Sunday with my children, I 
met a negro woman, Lucilla, with a large Testament under her 
arm. I stopped and asked where she was going. She replied, 
she hated to see the children running wild, and was going up to 
the new church to try and gather them in a Sunday school. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 107 

How my conscience smote me when I remembered I could 
read and she could not. "Lucilla," I said, "if you will let me 
I will go up to your church and help you to teach your children." 
She replied she would ask the permission of the preachers, and 
come for me next Sunday, if they did not object. I did not 
think she would come. I spoke simply on the impulse of the 
moment, and never dreamed what a weary load I was taking up 
so lightly. Promptly the next Sunday, she came accompanied 
by Aunt Sally Bland, an old woman about seventy, dressed in a 
voluminous white dress, her head artistically tied up with a red 
handkerchief, and sporting a large turkey wing fan, she was the 
mother of the church, she said, and very solemnly we walked 
through the forest till we reached the poor little building. May 
God forgive us, that in a Christian land it should be called a 
church. A miserable hut built of rough pine logs, chinked 
with mud, no flooring, nothing but logs for seats. And the 
scholars, a few ragged, filthy, wild-looking children, who stared 
at me, but answered not a word when I asked them a few ques- 
tions. " The Lord have pity on their ignorance." 

Aunt Sally devoutly exclaimed, " Does you think you can ever 
get anything in them numbskulls ?" What weary work it was 
and how hopeless it did seem. But my sisters never failed to come 
for me, though sometimes we could not get into the church, and 
had to teach under the trees, the opposition was so great to it at 
first. We had no minister in the parish, and the Diocese of 
Virginia is so large the Bishop cannot visit the rural districts 
oftener than once in three years. I did not know to whom to 
appeal for books, and in my perplexity I wrote to Dr. Twing, 
begging a few books. The dear Lord surely guided my wan- 
dering feet to him. Most generously he responded by a large 
lot of books and a large Bible. His strong hand held out to me 
then has never been drawn back, but has strengthened and upheld 
me all thess weary years, when the burden has been intolerable, 
and my strength utter weakness. Next to God, the success of 
this work is due to this most faithful servant of our blessed 
Master. The books drew the children like magic; soon my 



108 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

school numbered nearly two hundred, including old men and 
women. Howell himself came and begged for books for his 
children, and gradually all his preachers were drawn to me by 
their potent influence. Feeling the absolute necessity for a daily 
school for these ignorant children, I wrote to Dr. Twing again. 
He helped me, and we built a comfortable log chapel, in which 
I commenced a parish school, where the children were taught to 
read, and the girls to cut and make their own clothes. In one 
week, I had one hundred and sixty scholars. One session I 
taught those children alone. At the expiration of that time, Dr. 
Twing, who loved me and did not want me to die, had the 
chapel enlarged and employed an assistant for me, a most earnest 
Christian man, who has been helping me ever since. Gradually, 
through the influence of the colored preachers, Sunday schools 
have been established at twenty-seven of their poor churches. 
Alas ! they had no teachers for these schools but ignorant negro 
men. These I have taught as well I could, but most superfi- 
cially, how to teach our catechism. But the Lord has been their 
helper and teacher, and through the blessed agency of these poor 
schools, fourteen hundred children have been taught the Creed, 
Lord's Prayer and Ten Commandments and the Calvary Cate- 
chism, and great numbers can repeat the entire Church Catechism. 
Three years ago these poor Zion Union negroes, through their 
Bishop and preachers, at their Annual Conference, begged 
that the doors of the Church might be opened to receive 
them, and the poorest corner be given them. Each succeeding 
year this cry has been iterated and reiterated with mournful 
pathos, and to-day these two thousand men and women are 
standing at the doors of the Church begging, with tears, that they 
be opened to them, " poor, humble colored people though they 
be." I cannot think in the annals of the Church there has been 
anything half so pitiful. There is no one to plead for these poor 
negroes and tell the story of their squalid poverty and hopeless 
wretchedness, and their great hunger for the bread of life. If 
there were, I do know tender eyes would be filled with tears, and 
generous hearts would prompt to deeds of noblest charity, and 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 109 

strong hands be held out to them. Surely He who has blessed 
these pitiful efforts so marvelously so far, will give this glorious 
work to stronger hands than a woman's, as weak and helpless as 
the negroes themselves, tottering and reeling under a burden too 
intolerably heavy to be borne alone. 

One feature of this work and the one nearest my heart, I have 
forgotten to tell you about, my Colored Sisterhood. Scarcely a 
day passes but application is made to me for assistance for some 
poor creature — helpless, sick or dying. How to reach the 
wretched men and women who shiver half naked in their lonely 
huts, so far apart, and hunger and thirst and starve and die with- 
out a comfort, or a tender, pitying hand to help them, or a gentle 
voice to whisper words of comfort to lighten the dark valley, 
sorely puzzled me. For a long time I wondered that we had no 
Sisterhoods in Virginia to minister to these sufferers. Then I 
determined I would have a Sisterhood of my own, and a curious 
one it is. At our little chapel I have four sisters, at most of 
the other churches two. These women are selected by my 
colored preachers and endorsed by the whole congregation as 
women of good moral character and earnest piety. It is their 
duty to visit the old, the sick and destitute of their respective 
congregations and report their condition to me. Thanks to the 
noble charity of the generous Christian women of the North, I 
was enabled to supply the most pitiful cases last winter with 
clothing, and for nearly three hundred. Thanks to the sweet, 
thoughtful kindness of the ladies of Philadelphia, I can go my- 
self now, when I am strong enough, to see the real condition of 
many of them. How I wish I could take you with me on these 
mournful visits. Just let me tell you one day's experience. 

The sisters at Mt. Olive begged me to come to their neighbor- 
hood, about seven miles distance, to see a poor woman who 
wanted so much to see me before she died. At last I reached 
the cabin where poor Peggy lay sick ; at the door, basking in 
the sun, were her five children, one an infant, filthy, ragged, 
uncared for, hungry too, I was afraid. I entered the poor house ; 
no window, no fire; on the stretched bed the poor mother lay, 



110 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

coughing horribly. Ah me ! I knew she would die, consump- 
tion is so common and so fatal ! Soon the sister arrived and 
attempted to kindle the fire, but the puffs of smoke almost suffo- 
cated the poor woman panting for breath. I could do nothing — 
hers was a hopeless case. A few days after my sister dressed her 
for her burial. " But I got another case wuss than this one to 
show you," my sister said, and together we went about a mile 
further to another lonely cabin; another group of staring chil- 
dren, but cleaner, dressed in substantial home-spun. 

When I went in I found the house neat and clean, a tidy 
woman spinning. "How many children have you, Betsy?" I 
asked her. " I ain't gone but nine," she said, " but I don't want 
you to help but one — I kin take care of the rest." I looked at 
the bed, clean with home-spun sheets and covering, on which 
her husband, a strong man, lay with burning fever. "Come 
here, this is the one I brought you to see," my sister said ; and 
crouching in the corner was a poor deformed girl, Betsy's eldest 
child, half imbecile. "She fell in the fire in a fit and burnt her- 
self; look here !" and the sister proceeded to unwrap the horri- 
ble burns. I begged her to stop — such things made me so sick. 
By this poor girl's side was a wooden cradle in which lay her 
mis-shapen, puny baby. 

Returning home I stopped to see about three little motherless 
boys, the brothers of one of my scholars, a girl of fourteen. 
How it touched me to see how she had fixed them up as well as 
she could and bravely tried to hide their tattered garments. The 
youngest could tell me it was a handkerchief I held in my hand, 
the second heard what he said, and repeated after him like a 
parrot, but when I took up my muff instead, the eldest turned 
from me to hide the tears in his sightless eyes, for he could not 
tell. Think of the weary lives of never-ending night of perfect 
idleness, leading to driveling idiocy, which these blind children 
must drag out in our wretched county poor-house — there is no 
other asylum for them. My Christian sisters, I see cases just as 
sad as these continually. Think what a hopeless task it is for 
one woman to attempt to stem such a torrent of misery with her 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. Ill 

feeble hand. You, to whom God has been merciful — will you 
help me by your sweet sympathy, by your generous gifts, by 
your prayers? 

Long ago I should have sunk, hopelessly overwhelmed, but 
for your strong hands held out to me, your tender words of 
sympathy and strength ; you will not fail me now, you will con- 
tinue to help me. I cannot think there is any other mission more 
pitiful than my poor negroes and I are. 

Truly yours, 

Pattie Buford. 



LETTER FROM CALLIOPE. 



Dear Sister Euterpe: — You are doubtless in despair 
of ever hearing from your erant Calliope again ; and I fear you 
may be too righteously indignant, in consequence of my appa- 
rent neglect, to listen to me now at all. But, I beg you, do not 
dash my scroll down in impatience, and declare that I am a hate- 
ful thing ; for my silence has been forced by circumstances, and 
I have longed to communicate with you again and again ! My 
brain is fairly in a whirl with manifold labors ; and I now stop 
short the mental maelstrom by a sudden effort, in order to snatch 
a few moments of converse with you. 

O Euterpe ! O my sweet octave of sisters ! That you could 
have been with me to hear the wondrous music-poem performed 
on last Saturday evening at Stein way Hall ! Surely the spirit 
of Hector Berlioz rejoiced in the enthusiastic rendition of his 
great work " La Damnation de Faust," now at last so tardily 
recognized and appreciated, more than half a century after its 
composition. The colossal tone-drama was given by the com- 
bined forces of the Symphony, Oratorio and Arion Societies ; 
the Orchestra and Chorus numbering in the aggregate between 
five and six hundred performers, and lead by the great director 



112 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

and conductor Dr. Leopold Damrosch, as he is now by all 
acknowledged to be. The soloists were Mile. Alwina Talleria, 
Marguerite; Mr. Fred. Harvey, Faust; Mr. Georg Henschel, 
Mephistopheles, and Mr. Bourne, Brander. 

Oh for words to describe the wonders of this Dramatic 
Legend ! — its grandeur, its beauty, its passion ; here its wild and 
unrestrained hilarity, there its deep pathos, and again its terrific 
horrors ! If I should follow my impulse, this scroll should 
become so bulky with my attempted description of all the phases 
of artistic representations, which the genius of Berlioz has here 
embodied, that I should incur the sharp reprehension of our 
courier Mercury, and no end of impertinences from him as pay- 
ment for the transportation of so heavy a burden, — the rascal ! 

The Legend of Faust has for years been the most popular of 
all themes of romance. Long before Goethe wrote his immortal 
poem, the story was told, with ever-varying detail of plot and 
incident, by bards and minstrels of all the European nations, 
from the most remote periods of popular song and story. Scores 
of poets and composers have exerted their genius in the delinea- 
tion of the characters of Faust, Marguerite and Mephistopheles, 
and have vied with one another in elaborating the rich capabili- 
ties of this great sentimental drama. The foundation of its 
unceasing popularity seems to be laid in the fact that it, above 
all other romances, appeals to every sentiment, good and evil, of 
the hearts of men. It is the very personification and dramati- 
zation of Human Nature. The form which the Legend assumes 
in the work of Berlioz was the result of a thorough sympathetic 
analysis of Goethe's great poem — which may be said to be the 
grand culmination of all forms of the Faust- Legend — moulded 
by the composer into a form suitable to be clothed with the 
many-colored roles of his music. Berlioz tells us that the score 
fairly wrote itself, crowding every moment of his thoughts, and 
compelling its transcription at all odd times and places. At 
midday or midnight, at home or on the way, in stage-coach or 
restaurant, wherever he was, whether waking or sleeping, his 
theme pursued him, and gave him no rest until completed and 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 113 

ready for production. " The labor of writing," he says, " was 
nothing to the difficulty of having it performed !" Here I am 
prosing along like a commercial report ! A moment ago I was 
in the Torrid Zone of rapture over the wonderful music, and 
endeavoring to cool my heated enthusiasm a little by seeking the 
Temperate Zone of historical reminiscence, I have swung beyond, 
pendulum-like, into the Frigid regions of cold analysis! Lest 
I freeze you with the breath of bare abstraction, I will hasten 
back to the latitude of animation in which you dwell. Let us 
listen to the music. 

The violins begin a soft and flowing strain, which breathes 
forth the very atmosphere of the opening Spring: — no sugges- 
tion is needed of its intent, for the delicious feeling of the 
expanding life of nature seizes on one the moment the first 
phrase is- enunciated. In a moment the warmth of the melody 
deepens, and is answered by counter-melodies in the lower toned 
instruments. Faust, worn out with study, begins a meditation 
on the joy with which Nature seems to awake from her lethargy, 
and contrasts with it the gloom of his own unhappy soul, 
wearied out by long years of striving after the happiness which 
he had hoped to find in abstruse knowledge. The strains grow 
more animated ; anon the recluse hears the faint sound of a 
shepherd's pipe, chanting the theme of some simple country 
dance. As he listens, the Spring-motive is gradually trans- 
formed into a Rondo of the Peasants, which becoming more and 
more distinct, at length breaks into a rollicking chorus, full of 
the simple jollity of rural mirth. This gradually subsides, and 
leaves Faust no more cheerful than before ; but his rueful reflec- 
tions are again interrupted by the sound of a distant drum. The 
Hungarian army is crossing the plain; soon their trumpet-calls 
usher in the Rakoczy March, in which the composer has devel- 
oped the Hungarian National Anthem in a magnificent piece of 
orchestral scoring, probably the most brilliant that has ever been 
written. As the troops disappear in distance, Faust resumes his 
melancholy musings. He bewails his dismal lot, and resolves 
to take the poison which will free him from it; whether for the 



114 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

better or the worse, he cares not. The movement of the orches- 
tra raises one to a high pitch of suspense, as he lifts the cup to 
his lips, — when the music suddenly changes to the distant strain 
of an Easter Hymn, coming in solemn grandeur from a neigh- 
boring Church. Its harmony moves along first in the male 
voices alone, and then swells out into the full chorus ; subsiding 
at length into a solemn hush. This strain of pious fervor wins 
Faust back from his desperate purpose, and he feels for the first 
time since his childhood, the joy of religious emotion. 

But the Prince of Evil will not submit to lose the victim so 
nearly in his grasp. Mephistopheles suddenly appears, heralded 
by a truly infernal fanfare of trombones ; and then begins the 
swift course of temptation through which he drags the philoso- 
pher down to perdition. He proposes to Faust that they should 
study the world together ; and he acceding, they fly through the 
air, buoyed up on a wonderful soaring movement of the strings. 
In a moment they alight among a crowd of revelling students 
and burghers in Auerbach's cellar. The revellers call for wine, 
and sing a drinking song almost too realistic to be heard with 
pleasure. Then Brander, the lion of the hour, sings the Song 
of the Rat, with a very amusing squealing accompaniment; and 
the carousers then improvise an amen fugue on the melody of 
the song. Mephistopheles responds with the Song of the Flea, 
accompanied by a very suggestive skipping movement. All this 
coarse ribaldry disgusts Faust, and accordingly the demon, cry- 
ing, "This is not to thy taste? Come on !" leads him away; 
and again they soar through the air (and you cannot help soar- 
ing with them,) alighting ere long in a flowery dell, where 
Mephistopheles bids Faust recline upon a bed of roses and 
resign himself to slumber. No sooner does he close his eyes, 
than the evil genius summons his spirits of sleep, to bewitch the 
senses of the victim. Then begins the wonderful Slumber 
Chorus of the Gnomes and Sylphs, one of the most effective of 
the whole work. The delicious melody floats about through the 
different parts, wafted along upon a billowy accompaniment of 
sextolets by the other voices, and gradually subsides into a pro- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 115 

longed, slumbrous chord low down in the depths of the parts, 
resting upon an indescribably drowzy fifth (low D and G) in 
the basses. The chorus dies away on this entrancing chord and 
the orchestra continues the sorcery in one of the most delicate 
orchestral arrangements ever written, the Ballet of the Sylphs 
formed from the melody of the chorus and built upon the organ 
point of the low D left by the bass voices, which never once 
ceases to sound until the movement dies completely away in a 
close so exquisitely pianissimo that the moment when the sound 
ceases can with difficulty be discerned. Faust awakes from his 
magic slumber, with the name of Marguerite on his lips, and, 
deeply enamored of her by his dream, he begs Mephistopheles 
to lead him to her presence, which he of course accedes to forth- 
with. As they approach the hamlet where the hapless maiden 
dwells, a chorus of soldiers approaches, singing a martial strain 
in six-eight time ; and anon a band of students from another 
quarter break out into a Latin song in two-four time. Then 
they are both heard together, in a movement of marvellous 
ingenuity, in which the different parts move along two notes 
against three; the effect being exceedingly fine. 

The night is now falling ; in the distance (concealed) clarions 
sound the echo of the soldiers' chorus. Mephistopheles conceals 
Faust within the boudoir of Marguerite. Faust felicitates him- 
self on his good fortune, but the demon hushes him as the maiden 
enters : — you can hear the rustle of her robes, the soft whisper 
of her footfalls, as she glides into the room. At her toilet she 
sings a ballad, which at first strikes chiefly by the quaintness of 
its archaic form ; but soon by its exquisite beauty, which fasci- 
nates the mind", and remains as one of the pleasantest memories 
of the whole work. When it dies away, we hear Mephistopheles 
without, invoking the Will-o'-the-wisps to a magic Minuet, and 
follows up the sorcery with a rakish serenade, accompanied by a 
pizzicato imitation of the mandolin. Now and again he is inter- 
rupted by demoniac laughter. Then we hear again the voice of 
Marguerite, just as she exclaims in surprise at seeing Faust before 
her. He breathes her name in ecstacy, and she answers timidly 



116 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

with his. Then begins a duet of most wonderful emotion, which 
is soon broken in upon by the rude and scoffing Mephistopheles 
and anon by the jeers of the neighbors in the street below. And 
then follows a trio of the most intense passion it would seem 
possible to embody in music. The farewell rapture of Faust 
and Marguerite, the demoniac exultation of Mephistopheles, are 
portrayed with matchless power; and, as every brain whirls 
with the excitement of the music, the voices of the trio are at 
last drowned in the renewed cries of the people without. 

After this catastrophe, we are next attracted by a strain of the 
deepest sadness, from an English Horn (an instrument somewhat 
out of date, whose tones are full of the pathos so needful at 
this point of the work); and as the plaintive melody fills the 
heart with melancholy feelings, Marguerite sings from her win- 
dow: 

" My heart is heavy, 

My peace is o'er, 
I shall find it never, 

And never more." 

But in a moment she becomes more animated, as she thinks of 
her lover's charms; her love wells up from her full heart, in 
strains more rapid and energetic, and as her excitement grows, 
the whole song, melody and accompaniment, becomes breathless 
and heaving with syncopation, and a short, panting motion of 
almost painful intensity. Then at length it subsides into the 
former mournful lament, and the English Horn again wails forth 
its plaintive strain. The night again closes down ; in the distance 
once more is heard the (concealed) chorus of students, as the 
careless world goes on outside: and gradually the movement 
transports us to a stern and gloomy wilderness, where all the 
sounds of forest and rock and stream mingle in chaotic grandeur 
in the orchestration. Hither Faust has fled, in despair of the 
happiness he had hoped to find with Marguerite, and now he 
seeks to solace his wearied soul in the contemplation of the gran- 
deur of Nature's wildest domains. But as he invokes the awful 
solitudes around, the relentless fiend appears, sealing the rocks. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 117 

He taunts the unhappy Faust with his inconstancy, and tells of 
Marguerite, in prison and condemned to death. The old love 
returns, and the dupe implores the demon to save her. He 
agrees, on one condition, namely that Faust will sign a scroll 
which he proffers. Faust glances at the contents, and, unheed- 
ing the fact that he is pledging his soul to perdition, signs the 
writing at once — and as he does, the doom-gong strikes. 

Forthwith Mephistopheles summons two magic steeds as black 
as night : " Hither, Vortex, Gaiour ! " They dash up, and man 
and demon mount, and away they ride at a terrible pace. Oh 
the realistic power of the galloping movement of the orchestra ! 
Soon Faust sees a group of women praying at a shrine by the way- 
side, far in advance of them. The Ave Maria comes solemnly 
to our ears, as the twain rush along. They dash by, and the 
women scatter with a great cry of terror ! Fear begins to shake 
the breast of Faust, as a low growl in the basses is taken up by 
the trombones, and swells into the hideous snarl of some infernal 
monster following them. Then a flock of night-birds sweep by 
them, with a hoarse and ominous croaking. The demon, reining 
in his horse, asks : " Dost thou fear? Let's return ! " They halt, 
the galloping movement gradually ceasing ; but in the pause 
Faust hears the death-knell tolling for Marguerite, and bids Me- 
phistopheles proceed. The gallop begins again, rising higher 
and higher in its fierce haste — the demon shouts at the steeds, as 
he urges them on — the darkness becomes more dense, and awful 
shapes fill the air — the manes of the infernal steeds bristle, their 
nostrils breathe forth fire — the earth quakes before them — and 
with a terrific crash they fall into the abyss, while the Arch-Fiend 
greets his legions with a shout of victory! The roar and crash 
and clatter of the orchestral ensemble which follows forms the 
frightful close of a tone-picture so awful, so truly infernal, that 
one would think the mind of man incapable of imagining, much 
less representing it, as Berlioz has here so vividly done through 
the medium of music. 

After a short solo describing the fate of the fallen soul, 
answered by a deep whisper of the basses: "Awful doom!" 



118 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the great work then closes with the Apotheosis of Marguerite, 
a lovely movement with harp obligate, to which the Seraphim 
(Soprano, Alto and Tenor) sing a hymn of praise, and welcome 
the soul of the penitent with sweet strains of consolation, in 
which all finally join in the closing whisper of peace: "Come! 
Come! Come!" 

There! I suppose you are tired out with my long and prosy 
description of the Great Dramatic Legend! And here comes 
Mercury, and I know he will be perfectly dreadful ! But I was 
so full of the wonderful music that I couldn't help it; and if 
you will forgive me, I'll promise never to write so much again. 
Farewell ! Your loving sister, 

Calliope. 



HORNER SCHOOL. 



The catalogue of " Horner School," for boys, Oxford, 
North Carolina, is received. It gives us pleasure to add our 
testimony to the numerous endorsements that school has already 
received. Under the government of Mr. Horner, pere, it 
attained in past years a very high reputation for excellent dis- 
cipline and thorough instruction. And now that Mr. Horner, 
jils, is associated with his father in its management, a new life 
and spirit of enterprise seems to be infused. Instructors of high 
attainments are employed in every department, and the addi- 
tion to the staff of such an accomplished gentleman as Mr. Van 
Jasmund, meets the demands of the present age for a knowledge 
of the modern languages in addition to the curriculum of "classics 
and mathematics," which was in olden times considered sufficient 
for a boy's education. Mr. Horner is determined that his school 
shall rank second to none in the country, and the honors 
that his boys receive in entering college is the best proof of the 
efficiency of his method of instruction. 



ST. MAKY'S MUSE 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 



Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

SllP'^'Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of L. Branson. 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Kaleigh, N. C. 



The "Oxonian,'' (price $1.00) will be furnished with the "Muse 
to one address for $1.25, and any publication will be furnished 
with the " Muse " at reduced rates. 



The Kindergarten " Musical Charade" netted $55.00, 
which was appropriated to the foundation of a Children's Cot in 
St. John's Hospital. 

We gratefully acknowledge the receipt of two copies of 
the Muse for June from Mrs. Samuel Ruffin, and one number 
from an anonymous subscriber. 

The first premium for Crayon Drawings given at the late 
Weldon Fair, was awarded to Miss Rebe W. Smith, one of our 
most zealous and enthusiastic "artists" of last year. 

Three new " boarders " since our last issue, and so little 
room left for others that we must suggest the necessity of early 
application to all who intend coming in January. 



120 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Mrs. Warren, after a sojourn of two months in Raleigh, 
where she won many friends, has returned to her home in Texas, 
leaving her only daughter at St. Mary's for a term of years. 

Santa Glaus will carry well-filled pouches this Christmas, 
if we may judge by the quantity of bric-a-brac, beautiful sta- 
tionery, books, albums, cards, dolls in full dress, dolls in demi- 
toilette, etc., etc., etc., which we saw the girls buying at the Fair 
the other night. 

We have received copies of two charming new Christmas 
carols by Mr. H. B. Whitney, of New York. Both words and 
music are excellent, and we cannot recommend them too highly 
to such of our parishes and Sunday schools as are not yet 
furnished for the coming joyous season. 

We are now greatly interested in " Aunt Becky's" little band 
of "Messengers," who are working in the same good cause. 
"Old Girls," we look to see the names of our grandchildren in 
that band. Bring them to the front and train them from their 
earliest years to do their little part in the great army of Christian 
soldiers ! 

We are indebted to the Church Messenger for some valuable 
teaching on the Advent Season. That series of articles is alone 
worth the year's subscription to that excellent Church paper 
($1.50), and we wish every churchman in the Diocese and out of 
it, could derive from it the same pleasure and profit that we 
have done. 

The daintiest little box of wedding cake and cards an- 
nounced to us the marriage of Loula Atkinson ('77) and Mr. J. 
Williams Murchison. The wedding took place in November, 
and after a bridal visit to some of our Southern cities, the happy 
pair have returned to their home in Wilmington, where we trust 
" they may live long and happily." 

Fifty dollars towards our Church Building Fund is already 
handed to Bishop Lyman, and we hope after Christmas, when 
the mite boxes are opened, to have nearly as much more to give 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 121 

him. It is good to feel that we are among the first to respond 
to the call of the General Conference for that million of dollars 
that is so sadly needed for building churches in the desolate and 
waste places of our broad land. 

Oue thanks are due to our valued friend Miss Carrie Pat- 
terson, for cards of invitation to the marriage of her sister, Miss 
Lettie, to Mr. Frank Fries. The marriage was celebrated at the 
Moravian Church, in Salem, and we learn from the "Academy, " 
that it was a very brilliant affair, and that the "stars" indicate 
great joy and happiness in store for the young couple. They 
have our hearty congratulations ! 

We all rejoice that Mercury, in his travels in our service, 
has come across our good old friend Calliope once more. Our 
lost Muse we had begun to think her, but the winged god caught 
her at the happy moment when the charms of music had filled 
her soul and it was not hard to persuade her to share with us that 
which is most precious to her. See the loving enthusiasm which 
pervades her letter as she tells of that exquisite music of Berlioz. 

Plans for spending the Christmas holidays are disturbing the 
peace of mind of many of our household. Some, both teachers 
and scholars, are going away at all costs, others are trying to 
think it more sensible to stand by each other and have as good 
a time as possible in the few brief days of rest, and some make 
a virtue of necessity and stay with cheerfulness, however bright 
and tempting are the sweet drawings towards home at the merry 
Xraas tide. 

It was a matter of surprise to us some time ago to see in a 
letter to the Church Messenger (from one of our Diocesan 
clergy too) the statement that "scholarships" in the mission field 
were unknown in North Carolina. Is it possible that even our 
Fathers in God do not know what St. Mary's has long been doing 
in that way ? Please take note, Rev. Fathers, that this, your 
nursery, has for years supported the "Aldert Smedes Scholarship" 
in Miss Nelson's School, Shanghai, China, and that it was for a 
long time the only one cared for by North Carolina. 



122 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

It is pleasant to have on our exchange list so many bright 
papers and magazines, most of them school productions like our 
own. Those from church schools are especially welcome, and 
among them none more so than the Palladium of our, namesake, 
St. Mary's, in Knoxville, Illinois. Fresh and wide awake, it 
comes to us like a good bracing nor'-wester, warming up our 
blood and stirring our pride to keep pace in all good works, poor 
as we are in worldly goods, with the richly endowed church 
institutions of that more favored region. 

The Bishop has given us the right to name the church that 
we are working for, and we have decided to call it "St. Mary's 
in the Mountains." One of our ready young mathematicians 
made the calculation that if each member of Mrs. Meares' 
Bible Class makes three dollars, we can raise the whole sum 
needed by this means, and though we have a large part of it se- 
cured by the Fair, there are some little girls who still persist in 
making their three dollars. How true it is that we love the 
cause in which we spend ourselves. May St. Mary's daughters 
be ever ready with hearts and hands to do the Master's work. 

A treat awaits us on the 20th inst., when the Mendelssohn 
Quintette Club is expected to give a concert in Raleigh. They 
come under the auspices of Prof. Sanborn, who generously makes 
himself personally responsible for their financial success, in order 
that his pupils may have the rare opportunity of hearing the 
high order of music of which their repertoire consists. With 
the delightful memories of the wondrously sweet music they 
gave us last spring, we cannot doubt that a large and interested 
audience will testify to Raleigh's appreciation of what is best in 
the musical line. 

Many and varied are the roads to learning opened to us at 
St. Mary's, and Mr. Smedes' liberality has added still another to 
the numerous teachers necessary to our proper guidance therein. 
This time the " Compositions" are delegated to the special care 
and supervision of Miss Stubbert, of Boston. Her varied 
acquirements, broad literary culture, and extended travels in 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 123 

Europe, as well as in the United States, seem to promise all that 
is needful to improve and interest her pupils in that branch of 
work which school girls universally pronounce the bug-bear of 
their lives. We give Miss S. a cordial greeting, and promise to 
give her our best aid in bringing up this department of our 
school work to the desired standard. 

Thanksgiving Day was cold and rainy ; consequently we 
could not carry out our purpose of attending service at the 
churches in the city. Though our Chapel was destitute of the 
usual "thank offerings" of Harvest-home there were not lack- 
ing hearts full of thankfulness for the many mercies which have 
crowned the year. The bountiful dinner of turkeys, mince pies 
and other traditionary accessories was thoroughly appreciated, and 
the evening was enlivened by a Phantom party. Notwithstanding 
the ghostly appearance of the guests, they had a very enjoyable 
time, and when at the appointed signal, the masks were simulta- 
neously dropped, great was the merriment in recognizing friends 
who had successfully maintained their incognito throughout the 
evening. 

The whisper of last month's Muse was true, and the Birds 
and Fairies of St. Mary's Kindergarten gave us a treat on Fri- 
day, the tenth. The Musical Charade had been postponed on 
account of the long rains, but the well-filled room showed that 
the friends of St. Mary's believed patient waiters would be no 
losers. The operetta was in three parts. 1st, Excel; 2nd, 
Lent ; 3rd, Excellent. The first scene opened with the tableau : 

"Queen of the Birds and her Court." 

A little maid, in dainty dress and golden crown, stood upon 
her throne, at her feet knelt her pages, two bright-eyed boys, 
whose soft, grey suits and hats of grey and white showed they 
were Wrens — Robin stood gaily by, her cherry jacket like to 
the red-breast, and opposite was graceful Bluebird in airy azure 
robes. The background was filled with bright faces and the 
many gay dresses were truly fine feathers. In and out, among 



124 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

them all, moved little Lark, as fair as the cloud land to which 
she journeyed each morning. 

The Queen told her courtiers how the Fairies had asked for 
her best singer, and commanded each willing bird to sing. So 
Robins, Bluebird, Wrens and Lark sang for Her Majesty, and 
the court decided that Lark should be sent to the Queen of the 
Fairies. 

Next came a midnight scene in Fairy-land, with tiny sprites 
in white and gold, dancing among the trees, while high on her 
throne sat the Fairy Queen. 

The chorus of the Fairies to their Queen was very spirited; 
while they sang, the Herald of the Birds appeared and Her 
Majesty bade his court welcome. They had come to leave their 
dear Lark, and when the Fairies had received the sacred trust 
the givers sang themselves away. 

Poor little Lark found the midnight hours very, hard, and the 
next scene opened with her dear voice in sad complaint. Then 
Nightingale came to help and comfort, and both sang sweetly to 
the bright array of Birds and Fairies, who had suddenly 
appeared. A strong light was thrown upon the merry throng 
and the dazzling figures glided in and out in the final dance. 

The cantata was followed by the Herdsmen's Chorus in Shep- 
herdess costumes and the solos were well done bv Miss Horner 
and Miss F. Tucker. This, as well as the Postillion Song by 
Miss Sharpe and the final chorus, "Carolina," showed good 
work in the vocal music department. The tableau at the end 
of the chorus, having the coat of arms of the good old North 
State for its centre, was very fine. 

We had the honor and very great pleasure of a visit from 
Bishop Lyman on 11th ultimo. After a few words with the 
elders, in Mrs. Meares' cosy sitting room, he was invited into the 
parlor, where the girls had already gathered, and were seated, in 
the form of a bold and somewhat irregular crescent, at the open 
end of which stood an arm-chair, ready to receive our welcome 
guest. We make this arrangement of seats because the Bishop 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 125 

is warmed up and stimulated by the near presence and sympa- 
thetic glances of his listeners. On this occasion he told us about 
the doings of the late Convention, of the spirit of harmony and 
friendliness which characterized all its proceedings, of the various 
questions discussed, some of which were definitely settled, while 
others are still open for future action on the part of the next 
great triennial meeting. 

Then we heard what a true interest is felt in our own Diocese 
by good Churchmen in the North ; an interest manifested, not 
in words alone, but in deeds; and our Bishop explained that 
though much had been granted him of material help, there were 
yet waste places to be built up within our borders, and — " will 
not St. Mary's throw herself into the breach?" 

Who is so easily roused by high thoughts and noble deeds as 
a roomful of bright and earnest young girls ? Therefore — 

Behold St. Mary's pledged for one hundred dollars ! 

Thanks to Mrs. Iredell's good management, the Fair held on 
Saturday night in behalf of our missionary chapel in the moun- 
tains was a complete success. Every pupil was expected to fur- 
nish something salable — her own handiwork or a gift of some 
kind, and as far as we can hear, this was done. But most of the 
wares displayed on the tables, were selected by Miss Czarnomska 
in New York. Her sound judgment and beautiful taste were 
borne witness to by the rapid sales which absolutely stripped the 
tables in less than two hours. No outsiders were invited to attend, 
and our Fair was strictly confined to the inmates of the school. 



HOENEE SCHOOL, 

OXFORD, N. C. 

A CLASSICAL, MATHEMATICAL, SCIENTIFIC AND ENGLISH SCHOOL, WITH 
MILITARY ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE. 



PEINCIPALS : 
JAMES H. HORNER, A. M. 
JEROME C. HORNER, A. M. 

ASSISTANT INSTRUCTORS : 
J. P. PAISLEY, A. B., Latin, Greek, Mathematics, and English 

Branches. 
TH. V. JASMUND, Ph. D., French, German, Geography, and 

History. 



The School has been under its present management for THIRTY YEARS ; 
and in this sense, it is, we believe, the OLDEST SCHOOL in the South. 

Long experience and watchful observation have enabled us to make many 
improvements in our methods of instruction and discipline; and the fact that 
a large proportion of our boys have been able to compete successfully for the 
highest honors in the various Colleges and Universities of the country, fur- 
nishes satisfactory evidence of the excellence of our system. 



No expense or pains will be spared to maintain the high reputation of the 

HOKNER SCHOOL 

and to make it complete in all the requirements of a first-rate preparatory 
and finishing Academy. None but well-qualified Assistant Instructors will be 
employed ; and none but honorable and studious boys will be retained in the 
School. 

The location is retired, but not so remote from the town as to lose the health- 
ful influence of its refined society. Students live in the family of the Princi- 
pals ; and their conduct out of school and in school is strictly supervised and 
controlled. The standard of Scholarship and of gentlemanly deportment is 
high. 

The course of study is complete. The Text-Books are up to the latest ad- 
vancements in every department ; and the best educational advantages in all 
the appointments of the School are provided. The session is divided into 
two terms of twenty weeks each, with only one day's interval. 

The first term of the scholastic year begins the third Monday in August; 
the second, the first Tuesday in January. 

The charge for board and tuition is f 100 for each session, or $200 for the 
whole scholastic year, payable at the beginning of each term. 

For further particulars apply to 

JEROME C. HORNER, 

OXFORD, N. C. 



ST. MABY'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, January, 1881. No. 5. 



PHANTOM SHIPS. 



The days come in and the days go out, 
Like silent ships on a silent main ; 

But the ship once gone, 

With its fleet sails on, 
It will never come back to the port again. 

They pass each other at dead of night, 
They cross like dreams, and give no sign, 

Nor jostle, nor jar, 

As they cross the bar, 
Where the sands of time make the crossing line. 

Each night one comes and one goes out, 
But never we hear the stretch nor the strain, 

As they land the weight 

Of their noiseless freight, 
And as silently put to sea again. 

Some morning we come to the best loved cove, 
But our flowers and shells lie scattered about, 

And lo! in the sand, 

Is the print of a hand, 
And then we know that a ship has gone out. 

Some morning we hurry down to the beach 
To see what the last night's craft has left, 

And lo! is a waif, 

All precious and safe, 
Some treasure dropped from the smuggling craft. 



128 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

Some morning we'll stand all ready and packed, 
Awaiting a ship on the self-same shore, 

But we know 'tis the last 

Of the fleet all passed, 
That the ships will come back to the port no more. 



HOMES. 



We will take a journey to-day, and peep into some of the most 
familiar homes on both sides of the water. We will go first to 
an old manor house of England. In olden times the scene 
which would have greeted our eyes as we entered the wide hall 
door, would have been a fire of blazing hickory logs, the old 
'squire in his large arm-chair smoking his pipe, his dogs lying 
on the hearth, and in one corner his patient wife, a second 
Griselda, quietly sewing, not daring to intrude upon the dreams 
of her lord, and his planning for the next day's hunt. But her 
tenants would have told you that her plans were for something 
better than hunting, for she made their homes bright with her 
loving presence, and her deeds of charity were not few. The 
picture which we find now in the nineteenth century is quite 
different though the same spirit pervades the place. The great 
hall is converted into a suit of rooms elegantly furnished. The 
lord of the manor is busy with plans for the improvement of his 
cottages, while his wife and daughter are engaged in making 
warm flannels for the Christmas feast. 

Now pass on to the house of one of the lord's tenants. Before 
us is a whitewashed cottage with vines climbing over the door. 
Lift the latch lightly so as not to disturb the inmates. All 
is as neat within as without; the furniture of the room is plain 
but scrupulously clean, and in the sunny south window are a few 
flourishing plants. The good wife is at the back door busy with 
her washing ; her little ones are at the village school, so she is 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 129 

free to do her work in peace. Her husband is off in the field, 
and she must make haste to have his dinner ready when he comes. 

We do not find it easy to leave the neat cottage, so bright in 
its homeliness, and visit a crowded tenement house in one of our 
large cities. What poverty, what wretchedness meets our eyes ! 
We climb the rickety stairs and lift the rusty latch. Only one 
small window lights the room, but that is sufficient to show us 
the misery within. There is no fire in the empty chimney, and 
the wind howls dismally without. In a corner on a wretched 
pallet lies a young girl with flushed cheeks and eyes unnaturally 
large and bright. A boy of twelve is seated near the window, 
looking with hungry eyes at a tempting bakery shop across the 
street. The mother is gossiping with her next door neighbor 
instead of trying to relieve the pain of her sick daughter, or 
to earn bread for the hungry boy. There can be no home 
without thrift and devotion. 

We are glad to get into the street again away from the dirt 
and noise. As we walk along the dark, narrow way we are 
greeted by the music of children's voices, and following the 
sweet sound we enter the Chapel of the Little Wanderer's 
Home, a refuge for little waifs, made by those who have more 
than enough for their own homes. It does our hearts good to 
see the bright little faces and how heartily they all join in the 
service. We are sorry to leave this pretty scene, for it is a com- 
fort to see so much brightness where it else would have been only 
sadness and sin. 

But we are tired of roaming ; let us come back to the South, 
home to us as no other country could be. Our first visit shall 
be to that white house yonder, which almost hidden by oaks and 
poplars, makes such a pretty picture. There is a group of chil- 
dren playing on the lawn, and the air rings with their laughter. 
An old man, ragged, tired and hungry, comes up the walk, and 
there is a hush in the merry group. The oldest girl goes up to 
him and leads him to the house, where we find the sw T eet mother 
busy with her household cares, but not too busy to minister to 
the wants of the poor and suffering. 



130 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

It is growing late and there is one place we must not pass by, 
that is, our own dear home. The lamps are lit and the fire is 
crackling merrily on the hearth, throwing a ruddy glow over 
the room. It is a room that many perhaps would not fancy, but 
to our tired eyes it is lovely. Father near the table piled with 
books, is deep in some old sermon. Down on the rug in front 
of the fire are the two boys, pretending to study ; but I guess 
kitty could tell tales. Then there is the elder sister with her 
embroidery. Now we have come to the cosiest corner, and there 
we find mother with her knitting, thinking perhaps of her girls 
far away, and protecting them with her silent prayers. God 
bless them all. 



AN INDEPENDENT OPINION 



The modesty of ' bashful fifteen ' in members of the fair sex 
has been a good deal insisted on, but the shyness of the most 
retiring maiden at that epoch is not to be compared with the 
shrinking sensitiveness of an unprinted young author. While 
his first work remains in MS. there is no miss in muslin who has 
not a greater assurance ; albeit when they have both ' come out ' 
it must be allowed that the author is the first to lose his modesty. 

Even before he has gained the honours of type be has of 
course an excellent opinion of his merits — is certain that there is 
' that within him ' which, if it will not set the Thames on fire, 
will make a considerable conflagration in any suitable material ; 
makes comparisons, not altogether unfavorable, between his own 
productions and those of Byron, for instance, at his own age ; 
and draws deductions from data to be depended upon (for they 
are his own) that are as satisfactory as they are conclusive. But 
these opinions he keeps religiously to himself, or confides them 
to only a trusty friend or sister who believes in him. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 131 

When he has furtively slipped his MS. into the contributor's 
box of the ' Weekly Parthenon ' — for he cannot endure the sus- 
pense involved in entrusting it to any monthly organ — he falls 
into a state of anxiety which I should call ' the jumps/ but that 
the Americans have, as usual, pirated the term and applied it to 
delirium tremens ; let us term it ' the twitters.' And he remains 
in them for an indefinite time, dependent partly on whether the 
editor of the ' Parthenon ' has mislaid or lost the precious docu- 
ment, and partly on his own powers of mental endurance. Then 
he writes in the most humble and honeyed, strain to inquire after 
the fate of his ' unpretending little story,' and receives a printed 
reply, couched in antagonistic terms, to the effect that the peri- 
odical in question does not guarantee the return of any rejected 
contribution whatsoever. No young lady of the tender age I 
have indicated, and who has conceived a passion for her music- 
master, suffers half the pangs on discovering that, instead of 
being the exiled scion of a princely house, he is a ' man of 
family,' in quite another sense, and has been married these five 
years.* 

I remember a most terrible accident that happened to the first 
production of my own pen that ought to have got into print — 
not 'ought,' of course (as I thought), in respect to merit, for 
there had been several others of equal intrinsic value which had 
been unhesitatingly and remorselessly declined, but which really 
could have done so but for my own impatience. I had received 
a letter — as sweet as the first kiss of love — from some admirable 
editor, expressing his approval and acceptance, and I waited, 
week after week, for the blessed thing to appear, as the sick man 
longs for the morning. I knew nothing, of course, of the 
mechanical necessities of a periodical, and, if I had, should only 

*It is curious that the great lord of literature who has so admirably described 
the slings and arrows of 'outrageous fortune,' all the disappointments to which 
flesh is heir, has not a word to say about the hopes and fears of authorship, 
with especial reference to the fastidiousness of theatrical managers. If he 
had tried his luck nowadays, it is certain he would know what it is to be 
rejected. 



132 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

have felt that all the contrivances of science and art should have 
been enlisted to procure for a yearning public the immediate 
publication of my contribution ; so, on the second week of its 
non-appearance, I wrote to express my surprise ; on the third 
week, and since I had still received no answer, I wrote another 
letter to demand an explanation ; and on the fourth week to 
express 'disgust' at what I conceived an unparalleled outrage. 
On this I got my MS. sent back again with ' Declined,' without 
a word of thanks, written on its first page, which bore evident 
marks of the printer's hands. 

It was as though some Peri had knocked at the gates of Para- 
dise, been admitted through the golden gates for half a second 
and then been shown out again with ignominy at the back door. 
I only hope, for the sake of my future, that those divines are in 
error who say that it is as wicked to have the wish to commit 
murder as to put that wish into effect ; for I could have drunk 
that editor's blood with relish. 

After that little experience I became, if possible, more modest 
than ever. 

But when the author in embryo has not only appeared in print, 
but published a volume of his own, matters are very different 
with him. His diffidence has disappeared, while his sensitive- 
ness remains as delicate as ever, and unfortunately much more 
liable to meet with shocks. I got one once, or rather a succes- 
sion of them, that lasted for a long railway journey, and which 
I am almost surprised I ever survived ; for there were two 
factors, as it were, that went to make up the discharge (it was so 
far electrical that it set my hair on end), and both of the most 
powerful kind — self-love and (what is only second to it) first 
love for somebody else. 

Arabella was my beloved object, and with Arabella and her 
aunt I was to travel from London to Exeter. She was young 
and charming, but, as I even then perceived, somewhat frivolous 
in character. She liked dancing, and — what was worse — danc- 
ing with military men rather than with civilians • and she had 
no opinion of her own as to books — that is to say, she was not 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 133 

quite so certain as she ought to have been (for I was) of the 
supreme excellence of a particular story of mine which had not 
only been given to the public in a three-volume form, but had 
recently obtained the honours of a cheap edition. She liked to 
hear ' what other people thought about it, which was clearly an 
act of disloyalty to me, as well as a proof of her want of judgment 
and independence of character. She said ( she didn't care for the 
opinions of friends and relatives about it/ a remark which 
showed her to be deficient in natural affection and the reverence 
that is implanted even in the breast of the savage ; and she 
wanted to know if I was personally acquainted with my reviewers, 
which argued suspicion of the basest sort. 

Nevertheless, I loved Arabella, and would have married her 
if an allowance of one hundred pounds a year, and tastes that 
would have done honour to one of a thousand, would have per- 
mitted it. As it was, we had agreed to wait and live in hope, 
which is certainly preferable to living on it. 

At Paddington station, after seeing the ladies comfortably 
settled in the carriage, of course I went to the book-stall to see 
if the ' Bandit of the Apennines' (it was not a domestic story like 
this by any means) was properly displayed, and to put a few 
careless questions as to how it was going off. In point of fact I 
meant to buy it, for I always encouraged its sale in that way 
whenever I took a journey. To my surprise and horror there 
was not one copy on the stall. 'This is the way,' thought I, 
' that great reputations are burked.' However, I commanded 
my temper (which is beautiful, but hasty) so far as to ask of the 
person in charge how this infamy had occurred. 

' Well sir,' said he, ' the explanation is very simple : we have 
just sold the last copy of the book.' 

If I had had one to spare — but the fact was, that fare to Exe- 
ter had made a great hole in my quarter's allowance — I could 
have given that man a sovereign. 

' Is there any other book, sir ?' he continued winningly. 

' Other book ? No, indeed,' thought I ; ' I hate your railway 



134 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

literature.' And had I not got my Arabella, the prettiest picture 
book in the world, to look at throughout the journey ? 

' The sale of the "Bandit" is pretty good, I suppose ? ' remarked 
I, indifferently. 

' It's very quiet,' he answered drily. 

Now, what could he mean by that? The term 'quiet' as 
applied to the ' Bandit of the Apennines ' was a monster mis- 
nomer ; he lived, in fact, in a lurid atmosphere made up of com- 
bats, escapes, and wholesale massacres: the man must therefore 
have restricted his observation to the sale of the book only. In 
that case he probably meant ' quietly prosperous ' — not influenced 
by fits and starts of public favour, but growing more and more 
into popularity as its merits became known. 

'You say, my man, that you have just sold the last copy,' said 
I affably; . ' would you kindly tell me — for I happened to take an 
interest in the author — how many copies did you take to begin 
with ?' 

'Jeni,' cried he to a small boy at his side, whose head was only 
half above the counter, ' how many had we at first of that 'ere 
" Bandit of the Apennines" ?' 

'Oh, thatf We never had but one,' replied the small boy. 

Again I say that I trust the desire for blood is not so culpable 
in the eyes of the recording angel as the actual imbruement of 
the hand in human gore. 

I fled to my railway carriage with the smothered execration of 
'Dear me !' 

I found there not only Arabella and her aunt, but another 
passenger — a middle-aged gentleman (but old in my eyes), who 
would have made a very nice companion for the latter if I could 
only have persuaded them to remove into another compartment 
and to leave us two alone. But the selfishness of old age is pro- 
verbial, and there they stuck. However, I was opposite to 
Arabella, and under the protection of a common railway rug we 
could, and did, interchange an occasional affectionate pressure of 
the feet — an operation that is a little difficult, by-the-bye ; 
dangerous through its openness to the mistake of pressing some- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 135 

body else's foot, and exposed to the ridiculous error of making 
advances to the foot-warmer and other things under the seat. 
To do her justice, Arabella had never been backward in reci- 
procities of this kind, but on this occasion she was especially 
demonstrative ; indeed, as I happened to possess a corn only less 
tender than my sentiments towards her, her attention which I 
could not of course but welcome, were a little embarrassing. 

At last I perceived by the direction of her glance that they 
had a particular object. Her eyes were fixed on the volume that 
our railway companion had purchased at the station, and she was 
telegraphing to me with intense excitement, l It is the "Bandit 
of the Apennines." ' 

I declare that for the first moment or two I quite forgot my 
Arabella in the consideration of this tremendous circumstance. 
That a stranger should have actually bought my book, paid coin 
of the realm for it, of his own head, without fear or favour or 
personal relationship, and then got into the same compartment as 
the author of that admirable production, was something much 
more than an undesigned coincidence; it was an incident 
(remember it was my first book) calculated to confound the 
infidel and establish the providential government of the world. 
' But suppose — for everything is possible, however improbable' — 
thought I with sudden revulsion, ' that he shouldn't like it, that 
he should yawn and even go to sleep over it, and that Arabella, 
who wants to know the opinion of outsiders about the "Bandit 
of the Apennines," should see him ?' My heart felt cold as a 
stone. 

It was obvious that my beloved object was enjoying the situa- 
tion ; her eyes sparkled even more brightly than usual — with 
joy, no doubt, at seeing how I was appreciated by the public : 
but there was a twinkle of fun about them, which I didn't like. 
' Now we shall see what we shall see,' they seemed to say. 

The man was not a romantic-looking man, such as would be 
likely to enjoy a high-class dramatic fiction ; I should have said 
he was a lawyer, or perhaps connected with commerce — and 
not in the fancy goods line either. Upon the whole I was relieved 



136 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

to see that, after fumbling in all his pockets for a paper-knife, 
he was about to put the ' Brigand ' (which was uncut) into his 
travelling bag for a more convenient season, when, to my horror, 
Arabella's aunt — a good-natured but officious personage — pro- 
duced from her reticule the article of which he stood in need. 
He thanked her, and proceeded to cut the book with irreverent 
rapidity, as though it were a penny paper ; nevertheless, I was 
pleased that he cut it all at once, for if he had cut as he read 
and stopped half-way, or even earlier, it might have produced 
the impression that he was tired of it. 

' It is a pity/ he said as he handed the knife back with a bow 
to Arabella's aunt, ' that these railway books should not have 
their leaves cut ; but they tell me the reason is that a good many 
of 'em don't "go off," and then the sheets are used for packing 
purposes.' 

I saw Arabella's beautiful form tremble with suppressed mirth 
at this frightful speech. It seemed to me that there was some- 
thing unnatural and a little coarse in a girl of her age possessing 
such a sense of humor ; her pretty lips distinctly formed the 
words 'for packing purposes' before they subsided into a roguish 
smile. 

Then the man began to read, but not in a satisfactory manner; 
instead of his attention being at once riveted (as it ought to have 
been, for there was a most thrilling episode in the first chapter), 
it was distracted by contemptible objects — the management of his 
railway rug, the pushing of his portmanteau farther under the 
seat, and by the localities on the way-side. He must have been 
mad himself, I thought, to have stared at the Hanwell Asylum 
so attentively, at the very moment — for I knew where he was by 
the pages he had turned over — when all his intelligence should 
have been concentrated on the description of the brigand's prison 
cell. I am not a pessimist — I endeavour to think as well of our 
common human nature as circumstances will permit — and yet I 
could almost swear that I saw him turn over two pages at a time 
without discovering his mistake, and that in the middle of an 
unequal contest between the brigand and five officers of justice, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 137 

that should have stirred the blood of a sea anemone. Then, pre- 
suming upon the paper-knife as an introduction, he would address 
a word or two to aunt Arabella, as to whether she liked the 
window shut to the very top, or preferred sitting with her face 
to the engine (as if that signified), while the heroine, in whose 
adventures he ought to have been wrapped up, was escaping out 
of a window much too small for her, and by a rope that swayed 
with every gust from the mountain-side. 

It was I alone, of course, who was aware of the extent of his 
enormity, for Arabella only knew he had my book in his hand, 
and Arabella's aunt did not even know that; but it was easy even 
for them to see that his attention was not devoted to it. Indeed, 
every now and then he stole a glance of admiration at Arabella 
herself, which I should have objected to at any time, but which 
under the circumstances was doubly impertinent and offensive ; 
as an old man — old enough to be her father, forty at the very 
least — he ought to have been ashamed of himself, and as a man 
of business he ought to have been attending to his business and 
getting his money's worth out of his investment. Then — horror 
of horrors ! — as we drew near Swindon (perhaps it was the motion 
of the train affecting his aged frame, or the need of lunch assert- 
ing itself in his feeble carcass) he actually began to drop off in 
little snatches of — I hesitate, in charity, to say sleep — but of 
somnolency. The idea to which I clung was that he closed his 
eyes the better to picture the scenes which the author of the 
'Brigand of the Apennines' had so vividly painted; but this 
explanation it was difficult for me to communicate to Arabella 
(who sat next to him) by the mere pressure, however significant, 
of my foot; in her eyes I felt that this cold-blooded and stupid 
ruffian was falling asleep over my story. She had made, in fact, 
more than one little grimace to express her apprehensions upon 
this point, and though I had smiled back in the most cheerful 
way, ; He is only thinking, my dear; he is in reality charmed 
with the story,' she seemed to only half understand me, and shook 
her head in a very incredulous way. If he really should go to 
sleep beyond all doubt, so as to snore, for example — and he looked 



138 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

just the sort of a man to snore — I felt that my reputation as a 
novelist with Arabella was gone. 

However, we reached Swindon without his committing himsef 
to that full extent; but, under the influence of lunch, I felt cer- 
tain it would happen, unless something was done in the mean- 
time, and I resolved to do it. 

We all got out to have soup, and I found my opportunity of 
speaking to the old gentleman. 

'My dear sir,' I said, 'I am sure you had no notion whose 
book you were reading coming along, or you would never have 
nodded your head over it. 

What do you mean, my lad? I was reading my own book — 
the "Brigand of" something or another. I bought it at Pad- 
dington. It is rather a ." 

' Hush ! But you didn't write it : that's the point. That young 
woman in the carriage with us wrote it.' 

' What, the pretty girl who sat opposite you ? ' 

'Yes, next to you.' (This I said with significant reproach.) 
' She couldn't help seeing you nod, and it pained her.' 

' She wrote that book — she ? ' 

'Yes; she is exceedingly clever.' 

' Very likely ; but it seems so strange that a woman should 
have written such a book at all,' he murmured. 'It's so sensa- 
tional, so full of scenes. Dear me ! ' 

'She's a girl of genius, my dear sir.' 

' No doubt, no doubt,' he said.' ' How very unfortunate ! 
Did I nod? If I did so, it was in adhesion to her sentiments. 
I remember now that some of them struck me as very beautiful.' 

' They are all beautiful,' said I ; 'it is a noble book. But she 
would not have you know she wrote it for any money. It was 
published anonymously because she was too 'modest to put her 
name to it. You must not hint at what I have told you ; only, 
you had better alter your manner.' 

'Thank you; I will, of course. I have a sincere admiration 
for the book, and I shall show it.' 

' Only, don't excite her suspicions; be careful about that.' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 139 

He nodded till I thought he would have nodded his old head 
off ; and we returned to the carriage very amicably and resumed 
our journey. 

'I always feel sleepy after luncheon/ said Arabella's aunt, by 
way of excuse for the forty winks in which she felt herself about 
to indulge. 

' So do I in a general way/ said the old gentleman ; but I have 
a book here that interests me immensely.' 

I saw Arabella's eyes light up with pleasure, then hid myself 
behind a newspaper which I had just purchased for that very 
purpose ; I was a very young man, and my tender conscience re- 
proached me for my little duplicity. I had not the hardihood to 
look ; I only listened, which fortunately, my darling took not for 
remorse but modesty. 

' I thought you didn't seem to like it/ said Arabella's aunt, 
who was a plain-spoken person. 

'On the contrary, I am delighted with it; it is not often one 
buys a book at a venture — for I confess I never heard of the work 
before — and find one has drawn such a prize. I am not myself 
much of a novel-reader, but henceforth I shall look for a book by 
the author of the " Brigand of the ." ' 

Would it be credited that he had to look at the title-page be- 
fore he said, 'Apennines'? But such is the 'outside public' 

■ The " Brigand of the Apennines ! " ' exclaimed the old lady 

in great excitement. ' Why, that's .' Here, thank goodness, 

she was stopped by a cross volley of reproachful glances from 
her niece and me. 

Arabella was very anxious that her aunt should not reveal the 
authorship, on account of her craze for an ' independent opinion/ 
and of course I was still more solicitous not to have my innocent 
little artifice exposed. Our united efforts had the happiest effect ; 
they sealed the old lady's lips, and convinced the stranger that 
Arabella was the real Simon Pure. 

' There is a strength and vigour about this book,' continued 
the old gentleman, 'that keeps one's attention at the fullest 
stretch; one has only to lay it down and close one's eyes to feel 



140 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

oneself one of the dramatis personal. Have you ever read it, 
sir? ' And the hypocritical wretch actually addressed himself 
to me. 

'Yes/ I said ; 'it is a good story, and, as you suggest' (for I 
determined to pay him out for his audacity), ' singularly mascu- 
line in style.' 

'Nay, I didn't say that,' he answered hurriedly; 'it has the 
vigour of a male writer, but there is a delicacy, a purity, a — dear 
me! what shall I call it? — a perception of the niceties of female 
nature in it, in which I seem to recognise a lady's hand.' 

Here Arabella, shaking with laughter, put up her muff before 
her eyes, and I took advantage of the circumstance to give the 
man a warning glance that he was going too for. My fear was 
that before we got to Exeter there would be an eclair cissement 
of some kind; but, to my immense satisfaction and relief, he left 
the train at Bath. 

'I have no friends here, and am going to stay at an hotel,' 
said our fellow-passenger at parting; ' but while I have this book 
unfinished I shall not find the time hang heavy on my hands.' 

Upon my life,' said Arabella's aunt as we steamed away, 'one 
would think, James, that you had told the man you had written 
the book.' 

' Upon my word and honour,' said I fervently, ' I told him 
nothing of the kind.' 

' I am quite sure he didn't,' cried Arabella indignantly ; ' James 
is incapable of such underhand conduct. And I must say the 
independent praise of that gentleman is very satisfactory and 
convincing. I really began to fear at first that he didn't like the 
book. If so, it evidently grew upon him.' 

'It grew beautifully,' said I, 'the soil being rich and favour- 
able.' 

' Yes, evidently a most intelligent man,' said Arabella's aunt, 
' and exceedingly polite. I am so glad I lent him that paper- 
cutter.' 

And so was I, although there had been moments (when he 
was " feeling himself one of the dramatis personam") when I had 
regretted it very much. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 141 



BLIND. 



A TALE — TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER V— (Continued.) 

" Tell me frankly, my son, have you already gone as far as 
those of whose deeds I have read with horror? Do you hold 
so far with the bewitched materialist that you laugh at miracles, 
and believe that the Spirit is a delusion about which a man 
prates, and to whom fools listen ? Tell me, Clement, has neither 
your youth nor the seeds of gratitude which God has sown in 
you heart been able to choke the weeds." 

" Father," said the young man after a pause, " how can I 
answer you ? All my life I have meditated on the question. 
I have heard it answered in different ways by men all of whom 
I honor. Among my dearest friends some profess themselves 
of my opinion, which you condemn. I listen and learn, but 
dare not decide yet." 

" Who is not for me, is against me, saith the Lord." 

"How can I be against Him, or against the Spirit ? Above 
all, who, while He himself is in the substance can disown the 
Spirit ? Do not His miracles remain what they were though they 
should be only the effects of nature? Does it disgrace a noble 
sculpture because it is hewn out of stone ?" 

" You talk like them all, so you deceive yourselves with 
cloudy smiles, and confuse yourselves with sounding words, until 
you become merely the echo of yourselves. And you are come 
to spend Pentecost with us ?" 

" I am come because I love you." 

There was a pause. Several times the old man opened his 
lips as if to speak, but again pressed them firmly together. 
They heard Marlina's voice outside, and Clement stepped expect- 
antly from the window where he had been standing sadly. 



142 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

" It is Marlina," said the old man, " have you forgotten her ? 
Did not the picture of your youthful joys appear before you 
when those wretched cavilers were disputing the divine origin 
of the Holy Ghost ?" 

Clement repressed the answer which he had ready. They 
now heard the soft steps of the blind girl. The door opened, 
and with blushing cheeks Marlina stood on the threshold. 

" Clement \" she cried, and raised her clear brown eyes to the 
spot where he really stood. He went to her and clasped her out- 
stretched hand. " What happiness for your parents. Welcome, 
welcome ! You are so quiet," she continued. 

" Dear Marlina," he said, " I am home again ; was obliged to 
see you again. You are looking so well, and have grown." 

" I have been quite well since the spring. The winter was 
hard. I am so happy to be with your parents, Clement. Good 
morning, dear father," she then said, " we went out so early this 
morning I could not give you my hand," and she reached it to 
him. 

" Go outside, my child," said he, "Clement wants to go with 
you ; you can show him your garden. There is still a little 
time before noon. Think on my words, Clement." 

The young people went out. 

" What is the matter with father," said the young girl, " his 
voice sounded so strange, and yours too." 

" I found him agitated ; his blood seems to trouble him again. 
Did he not complain yesterday ?" 

" Not to me ; but he was so restless and uneasy that your 
mother was troubled. Is she opposed to you ?" 

" We quarreled on a serious point. He asked my opinion on 
a question, and I could not keep it from him." 

The young girl grew meditative ; but as they stepped out into 
the fresh air, her face brightened again. 

" Is it not lovely here ?" she asked, stretching out her hands. 

" Really," he said, " I do not know it again ; what have you 
done with that little waste patch of ground? Since I can 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 143 

remember, nothing stood here but a fruit tree, and the little mal- 
low and star-wort beds ; now it is full of roses." 

" Yes," said she, "formerly your mother did not care much 
for this little garden, but now it is her delight. The magistrate's 
son, who learnt gardening in the city, sent me the first rose- 
bush, and planted it himself. Then the others sprouted from 
that one, and now it is beautiful. But the prettiest are not in 
bloom yet." 

"And you take care of it by yourself?" 

" You wonder at that because I cannot see," she said hastily, 
" but I can know what the plants need." 

[to be continued.] 



BUDDHISM. 



The founder of Buddhism was Siddhartha Gautama, a prince 
of the tribe of the Sakyas, who, being the only child of the raja 
of that tribe, was reared amidst all the luxuries that his father's 
wealth could aiford. He became disgusted, however, with the 
useless life he was leading; and, in his twenty-ninth year, 
determined to leave his wife, his little son, and all the pleasures 
of an Eastern court, that he might satisfy the longings of his 
soul by devoting himself to those intense meditations and self- 
tortures which the philosophers of his time declared would raise 
men above the gods. But Gautama found no peace in these 
penances and meditations, and his faith had almost given way, 
when one day as he wandered on the banks of the Nairanjara, 
he sat down under a large tree, now known as the sacred Bodhi, 
the tree of knowledge. He remained there the whole day 
doubting, and almost crazed in doubting, until the setting of the 
sun, when all at once, his soul was enlightened by the new faith 
which he was to declare to the world. He had conquered his 



144 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

doubts and had come out of the struggle the Buddha, the 
Enlightened One. 

From that day Buddha set out to preach his doctrines to all 
who would listen to him, to the Pariah as well as to the Brah- 
min, and he declared to his followers that 

"Pity and need 
Make all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood, 
Which runneth of one hue, nor caste in tears, 
Which trickle salt with all ; neither comes man 
To birth with tilka-mark stamped on the brow, 
Nor sacred thread on neck. Who does right deeds 
Is twice-born, and who doth ill deeds vile." 

Buddha preached the "good tidings" to all classes, therefore 
his doctrines became very popular, and the number of his fol- 
lowers increased so rapidly, from the nine hundred who first took 
the yellow robe, that now " four hundred and seventy millions 
of our race live and die in the tenets of Gautama." It is the 
only religion of the East which teaches its followers the great 
lesson of love and the duty which man owes to his fellow-man. 
The tone of its morality is exceedingly high, and it also teaches 
that man's salvation depends, in a great measure, on himself; 
that he is a free agent. In these respects, Buddhism is very 
similar to Christianity, but in other ways Gautama's doctrines 
differ widely from those of our religion. He taught nothing of 
a God, or of a Creator, nothing of a blessed immortality. He 
grasped a few of the truths of Christianity and taught man to 
love his neighbor, but lost sight of the fact that the aim and 
object of all love is to make man more like his Heavenly Father, 
Who is love. He did not realize that great longing for some- 
thing higher and holier than self; the need of a God to worship 
and adore ; and that without this, man is miserable. He gave 
his followers no glimpse of the eternal joy and peace which 
await those who have done their duty in this life; but rather 
exhorted them to strive earnestly to enter Nirvanna, or the state 
of absolute extinction. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 145 

In one of Buddha's discourses, that which he delivered before 
the King, his father, he declared that 

"What hath been bringeth what shall be, 
Who toiled a slave may come anew a prince 
For gentle worthiness and merit won ; 
Who ruled a king may wander earth in rags 
For things done and undone." 

In these lines is contained one of the principal doctrines of 
his religion, which is the transmigration of souls. He carried 
this belief to such an extent that he forbade his followers to 
sacrifice animals in their public festivals; still be did not scruple 
to eat animal flesh. 

The Buddhists believe that " sin is a necessary thing," there- 
fore they have no idea of mediation, no sense of the need of a 
"Mediator." The principles, or rather the creed of the Buddh- 
ists, is summed up in the following words : " True wisdom con- 
sists in perceiving the nothingness of all things and in a desire 
to become nothing, to be blown out, to enter Nirvanna ;" from 
which they conclude, "To be is misery, not to be must be 
felicity." 

It is sad, indeed, that a religion which contains so much truth 
and wisdom, and which is embraced by a large portion of man- 
kind, should be so gloomy in this life, so hopeless for that which 
is to come. How beautiful is Buddha's religion in many 
respects ; and yet how dark in comparison with our own glori- 
ous faith ! For the end of the struggles in this life, the Buddhist 
looks to annihilation, to non-existence. Death must seem fright- 
ful to him, for it destroys all hope of developing into the per- 
fect man. But the Christian looks upon death as the beginning 
of a purer life, in which he will grow day by day more like his 
Master, Jesus Christ, "who hath brought life and immortality 
to light." The Buddhist's goal is the darkness of Nirvanna, the 
Christian's is the glory of the Heavenly Jerusalem, where "there 
shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall 
there be any more pain ; for the former things are passed away." 



146 ST. MARY'S MUSK 



A CHRISTMAS STORY. 



It was Christmas eve, and in one of the dark, narrow alleys 
of London, a little child was straggling all alone against the 
fury of the storm. There was certainly no sign of Christmas in 
this miserable place. The air was foul and impure, the only 
sounds she heard as she hurried on, were the rough, noisy mirth 
of the men, the shrill tones of the women and children raised 
in sharp contentions, and sometimes she heard even the sound 
of blows. 

She wandered on until she came to larger and broader streets, 
to open squares and beautiful houses. But the little hands were 
stinging with the intense cold, and the pain was almost unen- 
durable ; she was sinking on the hard, cold stones, when a thought 
seemed to rouse her, and whispering to herself, "I have not 
found my Christmas yet," she struggled on. She stopped a 
second before one of these beautiful houses, and seeing that the 
curtains were only half drawn, she pressed her face against the 
pane, and looked in. The children were all gathered around a 
Christmas tree, whose boughs were laden with fruits and toys. 
Within, each face was wreathed in smiles, and merry laughter 
came through the window : could they have seen the tiny, wan 
little face pressed against the pane, their faces would have 
saddened. 

She was now opposite the magnificent Church of St. George. 
The pain was not so bad now, indeed she hardly felt it at all, so 
she sat down on the steps, and leaned her poor little head against 
the railing, and listened to the choir boys singing the grand old 
Portuguese hymn. She was nearly asleep, but whispering, " I 
shall soon have my Christmas," she tottered on. She reached 
the stores of the city ; she felt as if she could go no farther, but 
should she give up her cherished plan now ? No ! she is there ! 
and saying softly, " My Christmas, my Christmas," she drew 
back into the shelter of the window, and gazed longingly upon 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 147 

a wax figure of the Christ-Child. As she gazed the little head 
drooped upon her bosom, and she slept. 

While the boys were singing the glorious Song of the Angel, 
one of the sweet messengers bore the weary little one to rest. 
The policemen said "Frozen dead," but the angels knew that 
the child had found her Christmas. 



^1 CLOUDY AFTERNOON. 



From my open window, on this midsummer, day I am looking 
out upon a cool and quiet valley, where the " Fresh fairness of the 
spring seems to reign perpetually." A restful stillness pervades 
all nature, broken only by the roar of the river dashing over its 
rocks at the foot of the mountains. Soft gray clouds are gath- 
ering, heavy with their burden of rain ; lower and lower they 
hang, till their mantle hides the mountain tops. Light wreaths 
of mist float up from the hills, gray streamers of cloud descend 
to meet them, their strange and ever-changing forms mingle in 
the air, swaying, floating in a silent fantastic dance. Surely 
those airy shapes are spirits of mountain and sky, that thus hold 
high carnival to the song of the river below. 

But a change is coming ; the clouds have for some moments 
been growing lighter ; suddenly a mellow radiance fills all the 
sky. The sun is still hidden, but earth and air are illuminated, 
as some faces brighten without a smile; rifts in the cloud garment 
of the mountains grow wider, while mountain, sky and river 
flush into sudden and unearthly radiance, as 

"Veiled and mystic like the Host descending, 
The sun sinks from the hill." 



ST. MART'S MUSE. 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

UBPAR.TMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 



Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

J^iT'Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of L. Branson. 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Kaleigh, N. C. 



The "Oxonian," (price $1.00) will be furnished with the "Muse," 
to one address for $1.25, and any publication will be furnished 
with the " Muse " at reduced rates. 



The delicious harmonies of the Mendelssohn Quintette 
Club are still lingering with us, and now we are promised a 
musical treat of equally high order from the Wilhemj troupe. 
To hear the finest living performer on the king of all stringed 
instruments is, indeed, something delightful to contemplate. 

Our Lady Principal had the rare pleasure of a visit from 
her son, Mr. Richard A. Meares, of Winston, during the holi- 
days. His cordial participation in the merry games and other 
festivities of the season, added much to our enjoyment of them, 
and his bonhommie will always assure him a welcome on simi- 
lar occasions. 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 149 

The semi-annual examination of the pupils in instrumental 
and vocal music was held in the parlor of the school on the 
afternoons of Wednesday and Thursday before Christmas. 
Misses Boyd, Sutton and Young were commended as having 
made the most marked pvogress in piano playing, and Misses 
Horner, Plummer and Sharp in singing. Doubtless the good 
effect of this new departure will be apparent in a larger num- 
ber of commendations before the close of the next term. 

The exhibit by the pupils of the Decorative Art Class on 
Tuesday before Xmas, was exceedingly creditable. Nay, more ; 
considering that quite a number of the exhibitors had never 
taken a regular lesson in drawing or painting, and had been 
only six weeks preparing their little Christmas gifts under Miss 
Norwood's direction, the display was very remarkable. The 
designs chiefly in water-colors, pencilling and pen and ink, were 
lavished upon a variety of fancy articles, and were exceedingly 
pretty and well executed. Some of the knick-knacks were 
thought worthy of being sent across the Atlantic as Christmas 
remembrances to absent friends. 

Hymen is making havoc in our roll of spinsters. Since our 
last issue we have been notified of six of the sisterhood who 
have " for better for worse" given up their single blessedness 
and entered into the holy estate. On December 3d, Georgia 
D. Fowlkes was married to Mr. Thomas L. Temple, of Texar- 
kana, Texas. Willia A. Wilson was about the same time 
married in St. Louis, Mo., to Mr. Walter H. Page, of that city. 
On December 15th, Annie M. Sutton became Mrs. Nathan A. 
Steadman, of Raleigh, N. C. On December 30th, Annie H. 
Bitting was married to Mr. Wm. A. Whitaker, of Winston, N. C. 
The 5th day of the new year saw Bettie Burke Haywood mar- 
ried to Mr. Preston R. Bridgers, of Wilmington, N. C, and on 
January 12th, Mary W. Mordecai was married to Mr. Wm. A. 
Turk, of Raleigh, N. C. Our best wishes and hearty congratu- 
lations to them all ! 



150 ST. MARY' 8 MUSE. 



Vanderbilt's munificent donation of $10,000 to the Deems 
Fund at Chapel Hill, makes us rejoice, not only because of the 
good fortune that has come to the University, but mainly as an 
evidence that the wealthy men of the North are waking up to 
a recognition of "the insignificant strip of land" that geographi- 
cally lies between Virginia on the north and South Carolina on 
the south. As year after year we hear of the streams of money 
that periodically flow to the enrichment of the schools of the 
Northwest, we wonder if those of the South have not a work 
equally as great to do ; and why endowments and donations do 
not sometimes find an outlet in this direction. We long for the 
day when St. Mary's shall be incorporated and endowed, and so 
be the better fitted permanently to continue the missionary and 
educational work which for half a century she has so successfully 
carried on without one penny of pecuniary assistance. 

By-the-bye, how generous Santa Claus has been with his 
exceedingly pretty cards ! They are more numerous than ever 
before, and certainly grow prettier every year. Graceful tokens 
they are of mutual remembrance and good will. That every 
one appreciates them, is manifest by the increasing demand for 
them as the various seasons roll round, and their interchange 
seems to kindle anew the spark of real affection that only needs 
some such pleasant reminder to burst into fresh flames. 

From one there comes to us a jolly old stage-coach filled with 
merry travellers bound for home to spend the holidays; and we 
have a suspicion of maldu pays. But the dear home itself sends 
pictures of the real " good cheer " that abounds at every Christ- 
mas feast, and of the spirit of "Peace and Good Will" which 
makes our true Christmas wherever we may be; and we are 
comforted. 

Then far down from the Sunny South, come in rich pro- 
fusion, cards of " Merry Christmas," all twined with bright 
and gorgeous flowers, of which even Christmas cold cannot 
despoil that favored clime. Pretty soon "Happy New Year" cards 
from away off in the chilly North bring sprays of snow-wreathed 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 151 

holly to complete our bouquet, and to tell us that hearts at least 
are warm under those cold skies. One dear friend sends a 
reminder that the Blessed Babe of Bethlehem found only Pas- 
sion flowers to wreathe around His cross ; another shows the 
butterfly resting on the purple blossoms, telling of the hope of 
a new and better life beyond. 

So all the way from ice-bound Maine to the genial Gulf, 
from gay cities and happy country homes, we have had treasured 
tokens ; and now to all the dear ones, who from the first " Com- 
pliments of the season " to the sweet " Mizpah " of to-day, have 
made us thank God for the friends who love us, we return 
affectionate greeting and thanks. To each one of them 

"May life a winter's morning prove 
To a bright endless year !" 

The December number of The Oxonian is on our table, 
and among some well written articles we have been especially 
interested in one on the subject of bringing foreign capital and 
foreign emigrants into our State. 

As to the question of the comparative value of the two classes 
of immigrants, those with money and without money, we think 
our neighbor advances strong argument in support of his theory 
that the poor but industrious settler is the one to be desired and 
sought after, but when he goes on to argue that our State cannot 
offer inducements to foreigners to settle within her borders, we 
must beg permission to differ with him entirely. He says : 

" No conscientious man, no German who loves his country- 
men, could, under present circumstances, recommend to people 
intending to emigrate, North Carolina as a State which offers 
advantages to settlers." 

And again : 

" We must never demand or expect a new settler to do what 
the old settler refuses to do — we mean to work side by side with 
the negro." 

We beg pardon if we suggest that the writer of this article 
must speak without having made himself thoroughly acquainted 



152 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

with the geography and the resources of North Carolina. If 
the negro is the chief obstacle in the way of the comfort and wel- 
fare of the foreign emigrant, we would remind our Oxonian 
friend that some of the most desirable counties in North Caro- 
lina are those in the western part of the State where negro labor 
was never profitable in the times of slavery, and where the negro 
race now forms so small a portion of the population that it can- 
not, with any propriety, be brought into the discussion at all. 

The large extent of country in North Carolina lying west of 
the Blue Ridge is not surpassed, in the advantages which it offers 
to emigrants, by any part of the West which is still open to 
them, and if it were made as accessible, it would soon prove 
equally attractive. 

In the counties of Ashe, Watauga, Haywood and some others, 
the fine climate, the spontaneous growth of the richest grass, the 
unfailing rains, and the abundant supplies of food, render the 
country much better fitted for the business of raising cattle, and 
dairy-farming, than even those sections of the Northern States 
where those things have been made so profitable, and where the . 
land is now held at a price which puts it out of the reach of any 
but the man of capital. 

If our friend who is so much afraid of the influence of the 
negro will make a trip through our North Carolina mountains, 
he will find a large section of rich and desirable country where 
there is blue grass and fat cattle, where there are fields of wheat, 
rye and corn, orchards laden with the finest apples, grapes 
ripening in the open air, and streams of sparkling water, which 
in their rapid course afford unlimited motive power for mills and 
factories, while at the same time he would be sometimes greatly 
troubled to find even one negro to "work side by side" with 
him, or with his German countryman. 

Let him go there and see. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 153 



ANSWERS TO PRIZE QUESTIONS. 



Junior Series. 



31. With what nation did the original story of William Tell 
take its beginning? 

Answer. — With the Greek nation. 

32. In what language was the Book of Daniel written? 
Answer. — The prophetic chapters are in Hebrew; the historical 

in Chaldee. 

33. Who is supposed to have invented gunpowder, and in 
what battle was it first used? 

Answer. — History records that it was invented by Schwartz, a 
monk of Cologne, in 1320—40, and cannon was first used at the 
battle of Cressy, in 1346. But it was doubtless known to the 
Chinese at a much earlier period ; also to the Moors and to the 
Saracens in Spain. 

34. A noted Bishop of the 4th century disciplined a powerful 
monarch. Who were the individuals, and why was the penance 
inflicted ? 

Answer. — Ambrose, Archbishop of Milan, in the 4th century 
compelled Theodosius I., Emperor of the East, to do penance 
publicly, because of his wanton cruelty in ordering the indis- 
criminate massacre of the insurgent Thessalonicans. 

35. What is meant by "The Field of the Cloth of Gold"? 
Answer. — Francis I. of France wished to secure an alliance 

with Henry VIII. of England in order to strengthen himself 
against the power of his great enemy, Charles V. of Spain. 
For the purpose of effecting this, Francis invited Henry to meet 
him at a place near Calais. The French and English vied with 
one another in the splendor of their dresses and the magnificence 
of the entertainments. So gorgeous was the display on both sides 
that the place of meeting became celebrated as the "Field of 
the Cloth of Gold." It took place A. D. 1520. 



154 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

36. What King of Great Britain was at once the- 1st, 2d, 
3d and 4th of his name? 

Answer. — William IV. was First of Ireland, Second of Scot- 
land, Third of Hanover, and Fourth of England. 

37. Wlio were the Asmonean Kings, and why so called ? 
Answer. — The Maccabees, called the Asmonean family from 

their ancestor, Asmon, a priest of the Course of Joarib. 

38. What is Queen Victoria's first name, and what is her 
family name? 

Answer. — Alexandra — Guel ph. 

39. What books of the Bible end with precisely the same 
verses ? 

Answer. — Jeremiah and II Kings in the Old Testament ; 
Phillippians, II Thessalonians and Revelation in the New. 

40. What is the value of a "mite" in United States money? 
Answer. — A mill and a half. 

41. Give the names of the seven sons of Japhet, and the mod- 
ern nations that have sprung from them. 

Answer. — Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan, Tubal, Meshaeh and 
Tiras. Their descendants peopled the larger portion of Europe 
and part of Asia. 

42. What are the Apocryphal books of the New Testament? 
Answer. — "The Apocryphal Gospels" are five in number, viz: 

the Gospel of St. James, of the Infancy, of the Nativity of 
Mary, of St. Thomas and of Nicodemus. There are also several 
supplementary " Acts of the Apostles." 

43. The origin of Athanasius contra mundum. 

Answer. — The Arian Heresy became so widely spread that 
the great Champion of Catholic truth — Athanasius, a priest of 
Alexandria — seemed to be left almost alone to defend the Faith. 
Hence the saying. 

44. By whom and of whom was it written "Thy soul was 
like a star and dwelt apart?" 

Answer. — By Wordsworth, of Milton. 

45. Which of the Popes enjoyed the longest pontificate? 
Answer. — Pius IX. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 155 

46. What five instances of rare friendship do we find in an- 
cient story? 

Answer. — David and Jonathan; Damon aud Pythias; Orestes 
and Py lades; Eneas and his fidus Achates; Achilles and Patro- 
clus. 

47. What were the labors of Hercules, and by what name is 
he known in Northern Mythology? 

Answer. — 1. Unarmed, he slew the Nemean Lion, whose skin 
afterward served as his garment. 2. He killed the Lernian Hy- 
dra. 3. Captured the Arcadian Stag and bore it on his shoulders 
to Mycense as an offering to Eurystheus. 4. Hunted the Ery- 
manthian Boar and caught it alive. 5. Cleansed the Augean 
stables by turning through them the course of the river Alpheus. 
Being refused the promised reward, he killed King Augeas and 
destroyed his City of Elis. 6. Destroyed the immense birds 
which defiled Lake Stymphalia. 7. Captured the terrible Cretan 
Bull sent by Neptune to destroy Greece. 8. Abducted the mares 
of Diomedes, who lived on the flesh of men. 9. Fought and 
conquered the Amazons, in order to secure the girdle of their 
queen, Hippolyta, a gift to her from Mars. 10. Killed the 
giant Gergones, and captured his oxen, who were guarded by a 
dragon with seven heads. 11. Slew the monster with a hundred 
heads who guarded the golden apples in the garden of Hesperi- 
des and secured the precious fruit for Eurystheus. 12. Having 
seized and chained Cerberus, he descended into the lower regions 
in search of Theseus, who had gone thither in hope of rescuing 
Proserpine. His name in Northern Mythology is Siegfried. 

48. Who was called the last of the Greeks? 
Answer. — Phi lopoena . 

49. What great man was a master in all the fine arts? 
Answer. — Michael Angelo was Poet, Painter, Sculptor, Archi- 
tect and Musician. 

50. What poet was called the LaFontaine of Germany ? 
Answer. — Gellert. 



IN MEMORIAM. 



Died, at the Episcopal residence, in Wilmington, on 
Tuesday evening, January 5th, 1881, the Rt. Rev. 
Thomas Atkinson, D. D., LL. D. 

A great sorrow thrilled through the Diocese of North 
Carolina, when on the eve of the Epiphany its chief 
shepherd fell asleep in death. For more than twenty- 
seven years he has faithfully and lovingly tended his 
flock ; they in turn have deeply loved and reverenced 
him, and will ever keep Jhim in blessed remembrance. 
We of St. Mary's who were wont to look forward with 
delight to his annual visits, would here record our deep 
sense of the personal loss we have sustained by his 
removal from among us ; though for several years past 
failing health required that he should relinquish much 
of the personal oversight of his charge to the Assistant 
Bishop, and since '78 he has made no official visitation 
to our Chapel. But those of us who were present can 
never forget the unusual fervor of his last exhortation 
to the class he had just confirmed. " Be not conformed 
to this world," was ever the burden of his subject in 
addressing the daughters of St. Mary's. How earnestly 
he would entreat them to be faithful to their baptismal 
vows ; to eschew even the appearance of worldliness ; to 
set before themselves a higher standard of the holy life 
than was exhibited by the Christian world around them. 
His own beautiful, consistent life so strikingly exempli- 
fied and enforced his teaching that their young hearts 
would burn with high resolve to cast aside every weight 
and to " run well " in the race they had begun. May 



every good seed of his planting be quickened, while yet 
all hearts are tender with the thought that "we shall see 
his face no more/' and spring up to yield an abundant 
harvest that may add to his glory and crown of rejoic- 
ing in the last great day. 

His people love to think, that like his own beloved 
St. Paul, " he has fought a good fight, he has finished 
his course," and now with the Church in Paradise, is 
waiting in hope of the final triumph, and the glory that 
shall be revealed. His mortal remains rest beneath the 
altar of St. James' Church. 

" May perpetual light shine upon him" in the eternal 
Epiphany of the home of the saints. 

"Far better they should sleep awhile 

Within the Church's shade, j 

Nor wake until new heaven, new eartl^ 7 
Meet for their new immortal birth, 

For their abiding-place be made, 

Than wander back to life, and lean 

On our frail love once more. 
'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose 
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse 

How grows in Paradise our store." 



"Died, in Philadelphia, on Monday evening, Decem- 
ber 27, 1880, Penelope Bradford Cox, wife of General 
Wm. R,. Cox, and second daughter of the late James S. 
Battle, of Edgecombe county, North Carolina." 

The friends of the late Mrs. William R. Cox have 
already been informed of her death through the medium 
of the city press ; but we cannot forbear to record in 



this, the organ of our school, our deep sense of the loss 
which we have sustained both individually and as an 
institution. 

It becomes us not to invade the sanctity of domestic 
life, nor to reckon up the virtues which made her dear to 
those who were bound to her by the tenderest ties. That 
the. ministry of love was not wanting at that now deso- 
late hearth, none could doubt who knew that gentle 
life. 

It behooves us rather to speak of her as the pupil and life- 
long friend of St. Mary's — the President of our Alumnse 
Association — one who was ever ready to sustain with 
heart and hand every interest and every enterprise 
cherished by the school. Nor were her abounding 
energies limited to a single field of action; her sympa- 
thies were far-reaching and manifested themselves in 
deeds of love and charity in many directions, but more 
especially in connection with all parish and church 
work. She did not recognize the Motherhood of the 
Church in early life, yet when she had once felt its 
blessed influences she gave an undivided heart to its 
service. Long will we remember her earnest face at 
evening prayers in the Chapel. So dear were these 
services to her that but a few weeks ago, on the occasion 
of her last visit to us, she modestly requested that they 
might be held at an earlier hour in order that she might 
be permitted to enjoy them and return home before 
nightfall. 

To none but to those who knew her daily life, was the 
full loveliness of her character revealed, for she was by 
nature reserved and shrinking ; but as years passed a 
more kindly and tender tone added fresh charms to her 
gentle manners. 

As with all noble natures, the dark waters of afflic- 
tion left no trace of bitterness behind. The Angel of 



Death thrice crossed her threshold, but in these as in all 
other visitations, she acknowledged a Father's hand. 
Her later years were marked by a sweet efflorescence of 
Christian graces that will not soon pass from the memory 
of those who knew her. 

May her life be a lamp unto the feet of those who 
would "walk worthy of the vocation whereunto they are 
called." 



We are greatly shocked and grieved to hear by tele- 
graphic dispatch of the sudden death of. Mr. James M. 
Sanborn, of Augusta, Maine, the father of our valued 
friend, Mr. Will H. Sanborn, of St. Mary's. 

A telegram announcing Mr. Sanborn's illness was 
received on Thursday morning, and his son left on the 
first train going North, but even then the sad tidings of 
his father's death were coming to us. 

Our heartfelt sympathies go with him on his lonely 
and anxious- journey, and into the home which the 
Ano-el of Death has made desolate. 



160 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



ART NOTES. 



Among the pictures in the Loan Collection at the Metropoli- 
tan Museum of Art in Central Park, are some very fine old 
paintings belonging to General Collett Leaventhorpe, of Cald- 
well county, North Carolina. 

One of these is by Gonzales Coques, a rare master, and is 
very fine indeed. It is entitled " A Lady and Gentleman 
promenading in a Wood ;" the figures being evidently portraits 
from life. This picture is from the gallery of General Watson 
Webb, and was originally purchased by him from a gallery in 
Cologne. 

Another and still more valuable one is a small picture, on 
copper, of the " Adoration." This is a genuine Raphael painted 
in his first manner, when he was only eighteen years old, and 
while he was still the pupil of Perugino. This accounts for the 
gold in the back-ground — Perugino being one of the last who 
used it. The grouping is perfect, and the expression of the heads 
very fine. It is signed by Raphael with the date 1501, though 
the signature has become almost illegible. There are fifteen or 
sixteen figures and two animals. Angels appear in a gloria 
above. 

There is also a very fine example of Teniers in a picture called 
the "Chateau" — a striking effect of light and clouds after a storm. 
This is an undoubted original, and has been engraved. It hangs 
on the right hand, or south wall of the east gallery, while the 
" Adoration" is on the east wall, opposite the entrance. 

A landscape by Paul Bril, called the "Judgment of Midas," 
is a very curious and valuable old picture. The figures are by 
Annibal Caracci. 

A small picture by Jan Steen of a miser counting his money 
shows unmistakably the hand of the master. The expression of 
the face is something wonderful. 

We should think that General L. who is a true lover of art, 
would miss these pets of his very much, and no doubt often feels 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 161 

inclined to pay them a visit, and exchange the quiet of his home 
in the " Happy Valley " for a taste of the stirring life of our 
great city. 



The exhibition of pictures in black and white by the Salma- 
gunda Sketch Club is now opened at the National Academy of 
Design, and seems to prove very attractive if one may judge by 
the sales, which are quite numerous. 



One of the most attractive features of New York is the art- 
stores of the city, at least we always find them so, and this win- 
ter there is more to be seen in the way of fine paintings and 
elegant works of art than ever before. 

Win. Shaus, at his well-known place on Broadway, is still 
filling his windows with the loveliest of paintings and engrav- 
ings, while numerous portfolios of beautiful and rare etchings 
tempt the unweary visitor to linger till he is fascinated, and goes 
away with a purse much lighter than when he ventured on the 
enchanted ground. 

The gallery in the rear of the building is almost too full of 
fine paintings, for they sometimes crowd each other, while many 
treasures are still concealed in the various store-rooms ; some of 
them having scarcely rested since their voyage over the ocean. 
Some of our pleasantest recollections of a charming visit to New 
York, in October, are of the hours spent, at Shaus', where we 
were allowed to enjoy all the beautiful things to the full, and to 
examine the elegant and costly stock of materials, until our 
artistic eyes were feasted. We cannot forbear expressing our 
appreciation too, of the unwearied kindness of Mr. Karl 
.Kraushaar, the polite and attentive salesman, who extended to 
us the courtesies of the house. 



162 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Raleigh, N. C, January 14th, 1881. 
Mrs. C. DeR. Meares: 

Madam: — At a recent meeting of St. John's Guild, I was 
instructed, as Secretary, to acknowledge the receipt of $55.00, 
the proceeds of your " Musical Charade/' and to return thanks to 
yourself and your associates for the same. 

I am also directed to inform you that the sum will be applied 
to the establishment of a cot in St. John's Hospital, to be desig- 
nated "St. Mary's Cot for Children." 

Very respectfully, 

Hugh Morson, 
Secretary St. John's Guild. 



Our Christmas holidays brought with them abundance of 
good cheer, and the happy hearts of the young people overflowed 
with mirth and Christmas fun, which made the old hall ring 
again. At night a blaziug wood-fire added its bright glow to the 
warm ligth of the large parlor, and sent dancing shadows over 
the laughing faces gathered around. 

A huge circle extended outward to the middle of the room, 
and the merry games were enjoyed, not only by the pupils, but 
by the elder members of the family, who, judging from 
appearances, had not forgotten at all how Christmas games 
ought to be played. 

And then the snow! Was anything ever so nice? We think 
some people will remember that snow ball battle a good while. 

We hope that in consideration of Mr. Sanborn's absence, 
the delay in getting out our January Muse and other short- 
comings on our part will be kindly excused. 



ST. MART'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C., February, 1881. No. 6. 



AUNT TABITHA. 



Whatever I do and whatever I say, 
Aunt Tabitha tells me that isn't the way 
When she was a girl (forty summers ago), 
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so. 

Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice ! 
But I like ray own way, and I find it so nice! 
And besides I forget half the things I am told ; 
But they all will come back to me — when I am old. 

If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt, 
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out ; 
She would never endure an impertinent stare — 
It is horrid, she says, and I mustn't sit there. 

A walk in the moonlight has pleasure, I own, 
But it isn't quite safe to be walking alone ; 
So I take a lad's arm — Just for safety you know — 
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they didn't do so. 

How wicked we were, and how good they were then ! 
They kept at arm's length those delectable men • 
What an era of virtue she lived in ! — but stay — 
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's days ? 

If the men were so wicked, I'll ask my papa 

How he dared to propose to my darling mama : 

Was he like the rest of them ! Goodness ! Who knows 

And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose '? 



168 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

I am thinking if aunt knew so little of sin, 
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt mu£t have been ! 
And her grand-aunt — it scarces me — how shockingly sad 
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad ! 

A martyr will save us, and nothing else can ; 

Let me perish — to rescue some wretched young man ! 

Though when to the altar a victim I go, 

Aunt Tabitha '11 tell me she never did so ! 



MADAME RECAMIER. 



During the period of directorial government in France, three 
lovely women — the three Graces, as they were styled by the 
madrigal writers of the time — enjoyed, and according to the 
unanimous testimony of their contemporaries fully merited, the 
exclusive prestige of incomparable beauty ; these were Therese 
Cabarrus (Madame Tallien), Josephine Beauharnais, and Madame 
Recamier. Their celebrity dated from Thermidor, when Paris, 
exulting in the, downfall of Robespierre and the conclusion of 
the Reign of Terror, forgot its past troubles in the delerious 
excitement of the hour, and hailed with feverish eagerness, every 
opportunity of gratifying its thirst for pleasure and ' effervescence 
of luxury.' 

Then, like 'three flowers springing from an extinct volcano,' 
this trio of sirens emerged from the relative obscurity of private 
life into the full blaze of notoriety, became the supreme arbiters 
of taste, and inaugurated that semi-classical costume which none 
but themselves could have ventured to adopt. Here is Madame 
Tallien, sketched with his usual picturesque accuracy by Carlyle ; 
' her sweeping tresses snooded by glittering antique fillet, bright- 
dyed tunic of the Greek woman ; her little feet naked as in 
antique statues, with mere sandals, and winding string of riband, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 169 

defying the frost!'* Here is Josephine, described by herself in 
a letter addressed to the future Princesse de Chimay, and inviting 
her to be present at a ball about to be given at the Hotel 
Thelusson : ' Come in your peach-blossom skirt, for it is essential 
that our dress should be the same ; I shall wear a red handker- 
chief tied in the Creole fashion; a bold attempt on my part, but 
admirably suited to you, whose complexion, if not prettier, is 
infinitely fresher than mine. Our rivals must be eclipsed, and 
utterly routed !' 

This red handkerchief, tied in the peculiar manner alluded to, 
was subsequently discarded by both ladies, but constantly worn 
by Madame Recamier, who considered it particularly becoming 
to her, even during the latter years of her life. In other respects 
similarity of costume was not uniformly adhered to; while 
Madame Tallien set the fashion of diaphanous tunics, and Jose- 
phine collected the rarest onyxes, agates and cameos wherewith 
to adorn her luxuriant hair, Madame Recamier selected as the 
most appropriate accompaniment to her surpassing loveliness, the 
graceful appendage of the veil. Nothing could have more 
deliciously harmonised with the perfect oval of her face and the 
slender but exquisitely moulded symmetry of her form ; in 
Cosway's lifelike portrait of her we see the effect of this simple 
but all-important adjunct, and comprehend the enthusiasm of 
the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who, when asked what had 
pleased him most during his stay in Paris, replied: 'Since I 
have seen Madame Recamier, I can remember nothing else !' 
There must, indeed, have been something exceptionally attractive 
in a woman whose powers of fascination were so irresistible, and 
who to the very latest moment of her existence exercised so enduring 
an influence over all with whom she came in contact ; and as she 
does not appear to have been endowed with any extraordinary 
abilities, or even to have particularly shone in conversation, the 
devotion of such men as Chateaubriand, Benjamin Constant, and 



"""Each toe adorned with a superb emerald. 



170 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Ballanche may be regarded as perhaps the rarest and most 
significant homage ever offered at the shrine of beauty. 

Jeanne Francoise Julie Adelaide Bernard was born at Lyons, 
December 4, 1777. Her father, Jean Bernard, was a notary in 
that city ; of her mother, whose maiden name was Julie Matton, 
and who died in 1807, little has been recorded beyond her 
acknowledged reputation as 'jolie femme.' " About 1784, the 
youthful Juliette (as she was usually styled) commenced her edu- 
cation in a convent at Lyons, M. Bernard having at the same 
time obtained a post connected with the financial department in 
Paris, where he took up his quarters in the Rue des Saints Peres. 
Shortly after, he was joined there by his daughter, who hence- 
forth continued her studies under the best masters of the capital, 
and, besides attaining some proficiency in instrumental music, 
was instructed in singing by Boieldieu. During the Reign of 
Terror, April 24, 1793, when little more than fifteen years old 
she married the banker Jacques Rose Recamier, and in 1796, 
was already cited among the reigning beauties of the time, creat- 
ing the greatest sensation wherever she appeared. At the 
Church of St. Roch, where she undertook the office of queteuse, 
she is said to have so distracted the attention of the congrega- 
tion, that those who Avere not near enough to approach her stood 
on chairs in order to see her; and a similar curiosity was mani- 
fested at the promenade of Longchamps. Among her admirers 
at this period were Barras and Talleyrand, the latter of whom 
Was so captivated by her graceful performance of a shawl dance 
(afterwards introduced in ' Corinne ') that he remarked, he knew 
no greater pleasure than to look at Madame Recamier, unless it 
were that of being looked at by her. 

In 1798, her husband purchased the hotel formerly inhabited 
by Necker in the Rue du Mont-Blanc (now Chaussee d'Antin), 
and attracted thither all the wealth and fashion of Paris by a 
series of brilliant entertainments, at one of which Madame 
Vigee le Brun in her ' Recollections ' mentions having been 
present. There Madame Recamier first met Madame de Stael ; 
their acquaintance gradually ripened into intimacy ; and so 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 171 

partial were they to each other's society, that, as Madame Hame- 
lin laughingly observed, the safest way to insure the presence of 
either was to invite both. It was, we believe, at a dinner party 
at her house that a young man, delighted at finding himself seated 
at table with Madame de Stael on his right hand, and Madame 
Recamier on his left, complimented them ambiguously by thank- 
ing his hostess for placing him between wit and beauty ; upon 
which the Swedish ambassadress coolly retorted that this was the 
first time in her life she had ever been called beautiful. 

In 1799, when Lucien t Bonaparte was Minister of the 
Interior, Madame Recamier was invited to a grand banquet given 
by him in honour of the First Consul, who, as is well known, 
was by no means insensible to the charm of a pretty woman, 
j Why did you ,not sit next me at table ?' he asked her in the 
course of the evening. She replied that she could not take such 
a liberty without having been authorised to do so. ' You did 
wrong/ said Napoleon ; ' the place was intended for you, and 
you ought to have known it.' This seems to have been almost 
their last meeting, for although Lucien, whom she personally 
disliked, occasionally visited her, a circumstance soon after 
occurred which rendered any further communication between 
her and the First Consul impossible. Her father, who had been 
appointed to the office of postmaster-general, was suddenly 
removed from his post in 1802, on the charge of having allowed 
certain parties implicated in a royalist conspiracy to address their 
letters to his house ; the matter was strictly investigated by the 
government, and sufficient proof, if not of his absolute culpa- 
bility, at least of tacit connivance, was established to warrant 
his dismissal and subsequent imprisonment, Bernadotte, at 
Madame Recamier's earnest solicitation, endeavoured to intercede 
in his favour, but in vain ; and although eventually released 
from confinement, M. Bernard's administrative career was 
virtually closed. Meanwhile, the circle of his daughter's ac- 
quaintance counted agreeable additions in the persons of Laharpe, 
Mathieu de Montmorency, and the Due de Laval, the two latter 
of whom remained her attached friends through life ; she was 



172 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

still the admired of all admirers, and although, in consequence 
of her father's misfortune, the festivities of the Eue du Mont- 
Blanc suffered a temporary interruption, she continued to receive 
her intimates as usual. M. de Tocqueville alludes as follows to 
her exquisit tact as maitresse de maison, a passage quoted by Mr. 
Hayward in his Essays: ' The talent, labour, aud skill which she 
wasted on her salon would have gained and governed an empire. 
She was virtuous, if it be virtuous to persuade everyone of a 
dozen men that you wish to favour him, though some circum- 
stance always occurs to prevent your doing so. Every friend 
thought himself preferred.' 

The concluding statement is hardly borne out by facts, for it is 
certain that, however, inclined she may have been to court ad- 
miration, she never for a moment forgot her position, nor, even 
at the zenith of her celebrity, was the slightest breath of scandal 
ever associated with her name. Kotzebue, who saw her fre- 
quently during his stay in Paris about this time, corroborates 
this in an anecdote related in his ' Reminiscences.' ' Happening 
one day to go with her into a print-shop where she was person- 
ally unknown, the dealer showed us, among other novelties that 
had lately appeared, a caricature of herself. She took it up, and 
after carefully examining it, laid it on the counter, saying, "This 
person is probably a woman of doubtful reputation." " On the 
contrary, madame," replied the print-seller, " very few ladies in 
Paris enjoy so good a one." ' The future victim of Sand is 
enthusiastic in her praise. ' On my arrival in France,' he says, 
' I had a certain prejudice against her; misled by the calumnies 
published respecting her in Germany, I imagined her to be a 
coquette whose head was turned by flattery, aud wished simply 
to see, but not to know her. An opportunity of satisfying my 
curiosity was soon afforded me, for while at the opera one even- 
ing, a gentleman sitting near me pointed to a lady who had just 
entered a box opposite to us, and informed me that it was 
Madame Recamier. She was dressed in white, without simple 
ornament; and her modest appearance so pleased me that I gladly 
accepted the offer of an introduction to her. She received me 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 173 

most affably, and for several weeks I was constantly in her com- 
pany, and had ample leisure to discover that the reports I had 
previously heard concerning her were totally unfounded. In 
the midst of Parisian dissipation, although married to a man old 
enough to be her father, she conducted herself with the strictest 
propriety, and was as universally respected as she was admired ; 
having no children, she adopted those left to her charge by one 
of her nearest relatives, and brought them up as tenderly and 
carefully as if they had been her own.' 

In 1803, Madame de Stael having been ordered by Napoleon 
to leave Paris, Madame de Recamier placed at her disposal her 
country house at St. Brice, an act of courage highly resented by 
the Emperor, and ultimately causing her own disgrace ; during 
the peace of Amiens she visited London,* where, besides being 
a frequent guest at Carlton House, she enjoyed the society and 
friendship of the leading nobilities of the period, including 
Charles Fox, and Elizabeth, Duchess of Devonshire. Three 
years later her husband, whose fortune had been irretrievably 
damaged by financial speculations, became a bankrupt, the hotel 
in the Rue du Mont-Blanc, together with his other valuable 
possessions, was sold, and Madame Recamier found herself sud- 
denly reduced to a state of comparative poverty. At this junc- 
ture Madame de Stael, hearing of her friend's embarrassed posi- 
tion, invited her to Coppet, where the Prince Augustus of 
Prussia, Schlegel, and Benjamin Constant were at that time 
staying, and organized in her honour a series of private theatri- 
cals, Aricie in ' Phedre ' being one of the parts assigned to the 
charming visitor, who by all accounts, owing to her excessive 
timidity, did not materially add to the effect of the performance. 

In 1811, after the seizure by order of Napoleon of 10,000 
copies of Madame de Stael's ' Allemagne,' Madame Recamier, in 



*In the course of her stay she sat to Cosway for her portrait, perhaps the 
most faithful resemblance existing of her, not even excepting the fine picture 
by Gerard in the gallery of the Louvre. David had previously sketched her 
face, but left it unfinished. 



174 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

defiance of a warning privately conveyed to her from the Tuil- 
eries, again returned to Coppet, and a sentence of exile from Paris 
was consequently pronounced against her. We next find her at 
Chalons, and subsequently at Lyons, where she became acquainted 
with Ballanche, one of her most sincerely attached friends in 
after days ; and an episode of the first interview between them 
has been recorded as follows : ' As soon as Ballanche, who was 
then residing at Lyons, heard of her arrival, he hastened, bash- 
ful as he was, to her hotel, and was received by her with such 
cordiality that he entirely forgot his habitual nervousness, and 
began to discourse as freely and eloquently as if he had known 
her all his life. While he was speaking, he observed her turn 
pale, and on asking the reason, she frankly admitted that the 
odour of his shoes (which had been newly blacked for the occa- 
sion) was insupportable to her. Without saying another word 
he quietly withdrew, left his shoes outside the door, re-entered 
the room as if nothing had happened, and, to Madame Recamier's 
great astonishment, resumed the conversation exactly where he 
had left it.' 

In 1813, she visited Rome and Naples, prolonging her sojourn 
in the latter city by the express desire of Madame Murat, and in 
1814 returned to Paris, after an exile of nearly three years. 
The death of Madame de Stael in 1816, and the departure from 
France of her scarcely less intimate friend, Madame de Krud- 
ner, the talented author of ' Valerie,' affected her deeply ; and 
feeling a growing disinclination to mix henceforward in general 
society, she conceived the idea of establishing herself in some 
quiet locality, the privilege of admission to which should be 
exclusively confined to those who, either from long-standing 
friendship or on account of their own personal merits, had a 
peculiar claim to her sympathy. No better place could have 
been selected for the purpose than the Abbaye-au-Bois in the 
Rue de Sevres, a vast building formerly a convent, but since the 
revolution converted into a species of caravansary, the apart- 
ments in which were let to different tenants, one of these being 
the Duchesse d'Abrantis (Madame Junot), who there composed 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 175 

her Memoirs. Thither she definitely retired in 1819, and from 
that period until her death rarely quitted it except during the 
years 1823 and 1824, when she visited Italy for the second time, 
profiting by her stay in Rome to become acquainted with the 
painters Guerin and Leopold Robert, and renewing her intimacy 
with Hortense Beauharnais, Duchesse de St. Leu. 

She had not been long installed in the Abbaye-au-Bois before 
the prestige of her name had gathered round her the most dis- 
tinguished celebrities of the period ; the circle of her habitues, 
at first restricted to some half-a-dozen especial favourites, gradu- 
ally included the recognised leaders of literature and art, form- 
ing an assemblage of talent scarecely equalled by the most 
brilliant salon of the preceding century ; among these were 
Chateaubriand, her dearest and most valued friend,* Benjamin 
Constant, Ballanche, Ampere, Prosper de Barante, Humboldt, 
Villeraain, Eugene Delacroix^ and Augustin Thierry ; the fair 
sex being attractively represented by Delphine Gay, our own 
Maria Edgeworth, and Miss Berry. There political and social 
questions of the day were discussed, literary and dramatic 
novelties criticised, and the latest bons mots of M. de Talleyrand 
circulated ; each new-comer contributed his quota of informa- 
tion or amusement to the common stock, varying the conversa- 
tion by the introduction of every imaginable topic, from the 
state of Europe to the toilette of Mdlle. Mars. Now and then, 
the hostess herself would relate some anecdote connected with 
her youth, one of which, referring to Joseph Buonaparte after 
his accession to the throne of Naples, has fortunately been pre- 
served. ' I was standing one day/ said Madame Recamier,' at 
the door of the Spanish ambassador's hotel, conversing with the 
King and M. Beffroy de Reigny, or, if you prefer it, "le cousin 
Jacques ; " the royal carriage was in waiting, and the Prince, who 
was always very gallant, had just taken leave of me, when I 



*' When he deigned to talk,' says Madame Ancelot in her ' Salons de Paris,' 
' everybody was bound to listen, and no one was allowed to talk a moment 
longer than seemed agreeable to the idol.' 



176 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

heard a gruff voice muttering something close to my ear. I 
turned round, and beheld a granadier, a thorough " vieux de la 
vieille/' who had posted himself by the footway as a sort of 
amateur sentinel. "Citizen," he blurted out, addressing King 
Joseph, "thy equipage is ready;" then, changing his tone after 
a moment's reflection, he added, "whenever it may please your 
Majesty to step in ! " ' 

The death of her husband in 1830 occasioned no material 
alteration in Madame Recamier's mode of life; she still held her 
little court in the Abbaye-au-Bois, the fresh additions to her 
circle comprising such celebrities as Victor Hugo, Alfred de 
Vigny, Merimee, and Mdlle. Rachel. Up to 1848, her nightly 
receptions continued without interruption ; but the demise of 
Chateaubriand in that year,* followed shortly after by that of 
Ballanche, added to the consciousness of failing strength and 
impaired eyesight, rendered her wholly incapable of exertion, 
and she lingered on, growing weaker and weaker, until 1849, 
when she was suddenly seized with an attack of cholera, and 
expired on the eleventh of May, in her seventy-second year. 

Ten years later, her ' Recollections and Correspondence' were 
published in two volumes by her niece, Madame Lenormant; 
the title, however, of the work is in some respects a misnomer, 
its contents including a vast number of letters addressed to her 
by Chateaubriand, Ballanche, the brothers Montmorency, etc., 
but scarcely anything beyond a few brief and unimportant notes 
of Madame Recamier herself. 



"When she became a widow, he had earnestly solicited her to marry him ; 
but she dissuaded him from the project by saying en wait Parisienne : 'If I 
did, where would you pass your evenings ? ' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. Ill 



FOR THE MUSE. 



[Some extracts — principally from the Coventry "Miracle Play*" of The Na- 
tivity — which at Christmas-tide, or during the season of the Epiphany, may 
possess some interest for the readers of the Muse.] 



Much has been written, and more said, of late concerning the 
Passion Play of Ober-Ammergau and its proposed reproduction 
in New York. The attempt to transplant to America this relic 
of the Middle Ages happily failed; such an exhibition for any 
reason, but especially as a means of mere money getting, being 
extremely repugnant to the tastes and feelings of every one, and 
being regarded by very many as downright sacrilege. 

In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, however, the " Mys- 
tery Plays" and ''Moralities," as they were called, were very 
common; and it has been alleged that it was in witnessing the 
acting of plays of this nature, provided by the Earl of Leicester 
for the entertainment of Queen Elizabeth, as related in " Kenil- 
worth," that the then youthful Shakespeare first conceived the 
ambition that gave to the world the priceless boon of his match- 
less works. A remnant possibly of the " Moralities" may still 
be seen in the county of Durham, England, where a kind of sa- 
cred drama, called " Joseph and his Brethren," is frequently acted 
to " crowded houses " of the colliers, to the pecuniary benefit of 
those concerned. 

The text of some of these old plays has been preserved un- 
altered to this day — most complete among them, perhaps, being 
the Chester, Coventry and Townley series. From the Coventry 
(so called from the city in which it was acted) Miracle Play of 
The Nativity the following extracts are taken. They are appro- 
priate to the Christmas and Epiphany seasons, and will probably 
interest as well by reason of their quaintness and simple pathos 
as by their remarkable orthography, the spelling of some words 
being as various as their occurrence. Classic authority will be 



178 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

found for " hit " (it), that word over which our Confederate sol- 
diers were wont to make so merry. 

To the shepherds watching their flocks by night, a bright star 
had appeared : 

« * * * * Brethur, loke up and behold, 
What thing ys yondur that schynith soo bright ? 

Asse long ase eyver I have watchid my fold, 
Yett sawe I neyver soche a syght in fyld. 

Aha ! Now ys cum the tyme that old fathers hath told, 

Thatt in the wyntur's nyght soo cold, 

A chyld of meyden borne be he wold, 
In whom all profeciys schal be fullfyld." 

" Truth yt ys without naye, 
Soo seyd the profett Isaye, 

That a chylde schuld be borne of a made soo bright, 
In wentur ny the schortist dey, 

Or elis in the myddis of the nyght." 

" Lovvid be God most of myght, 
That owre grace ys to see that syght : 
Pray we to him ase hit ys right, « 

Yf thatt hys wyll it be, 
That we ma have knolegge of this syngnefacacion, 
And why hit aperith on this fassion, 
And eyver to hym lett us give laudacion 

In yerthe while that we be." 

(Chorus of Angels.) 
" Gloria in Excelsis Deo," etc. 

The same play, describing The Flight into Egypt, represents 
a conference of the Holy Virgin, St. Joseph, the women of Beth- 
lehem — who have heard of Herod's dread decree — and the shep- 
herds : 



Mary : — 



: Mekely Josoff, my one spouse, 

Towarde that cuntrey let us repeyre. 

Att Egyp some tocun of howse 
God grant hus grace saff to cum there ! " 



Women : 



Shepherds : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 179 

Women of Bedlem, (Bethlehem) 
" I lolle my chylde wondursly swete, 
And in my harmis I do hyt kepe, 
Becawse thatt yt schuld not crye. 

That babe thatt ys borne in Bedlem, so rneke 
He save my chyld and me from velamy ! 

Be styll ! be styll ! my lyttul chylde ! 

The Lorde of lordis save both the and me ; 
For Erode hath sworne with wordis wyld, 

That all yong chyldur sclayne they shal be." 

The " Schepperdis," (Shepherds) 
"As I rode out this enders* night, 
Of thre joli sheppardes I saw a sight, 
And all abowte there fold a star shone bright ; 
They sange terly, terlow ; 
So mereli the sheppards ther pipes can blow." 

" Lully, lullay, thow littel tine child ; 
By, by, lully, lullay, thou litel tyne child, 
By, by, lully, lullay." 

" Oh sisters too ! how may we do, 
For to preserve this day. 
This pore yongling, for whom we do singe, 
By, by, lully, lullay. 

" Herod the king in his raging, 
Chargid he hath this day 
His men of might, in his owne sight, 
All yonge children to slay. 

" That wo is me pore child for thee ! 
And ever morne and day 
For thee parting nether say nor singe 
By, by, lully, lullay." 

' Downe from heaven, from heaven so hie, 
Of angeles there came a great companie, 
With mirthe and joy, and great solemmtye 

They sang terly, terlow ; 

So mereli the sheppards ther pipes can blow." 



*Last. 



180 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

The description and explanation of the offerings of each of 
the three Wise Men of the East are very quaint and character- 
istic : 



"Hayle, Lorde thatt all this worlde hath wrought, 

Hayle, God and man togedur in fere ! 
For Thou hast made all thyng of noght, 

Albeyt thatt Thou lyest porely here, 
A cupe full of golde here have I thee broght, 

In toconyng thou art without pere." 

II 

" Hayle, be thow, lorde of hy mangnyffecens ! 

In toconyng of presteod and dyngnete of offece, 
To thee I offur a cup full of insence ; 

For yt behovith thee to have soche sacrefyce." 

III. 

" Hayle, be thow, lorde longe lookid fore ! 
I have broght thee myrre for mortalete, 
In toconying thow schalt mankind restore, 
To lyff by thy deyth upon a tree." 

As late even as this century the Adoration of the Magi has 
been made the theme of verses as simple, yet plaintive, as any 
above quoted. Less than a hundred years ago there prevailed 
in Germany, among other odd observances at Christmas-tide, a 
custom known as the "Journeyings of the Wise Men." A 
company of men went about from house to house performing 
many mummeries, but they were fain rather to receive gifts than 
to bring " gold, and frankincense, and myrrh." After the man- 
ner of our Christmas "Waits," they sang many hymns pertinent 
to the great festival, one of which has been translated as follows : 



" The Holy Three Kings with their Star, 
They loved the Lord, they came from far. 
When Herod's house before them lay, 
Thev heard him from the window say : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 181 

II. 

" Oh, good wise men come in and dine ; 
I will give you both beer and wine, 
And hay and straw to make your bed, 
And nought of payment shall be said ! " 

III. 

" Oh, no ! oh, no ! we must away, 
We seek a little Child to-day, 
A little Child, a mighty King, 

Him who created everything." 

But to give proper and full expression to the blessed event 
commemorated by Christmas, we must have recourse, outside of 
Holy Writ, to the immortal lines of the "Blind Bard: " 

" This is the month and this the happy morn, 
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, 
Of wedded Maid and Virgin Mother born, 
Our great Redemption from above did bring; 
For so the holy sages once did sing, 
That He our deadly forfeit should release, 
And with His Father work us a perpetual peace." 

Wilmington, N. C. G. D. 



PRE-HISTORIC ART. 



Lecture Two. 



In our last lecture we found ourselves in Egypt, that great 
store-house of all that is old, and I hope we lingered long 
enough among its tombs, and temples, and sculptured walls to 
awaken a deep interest in their history, and lead you to make 
much more extended and accurate research than can possibly be 
attempted in a lecture, or in a hundred lectures for that matter. 

You will find the subject of Egyptian antiquities a very 
fascinating one, and if you begin to study it I think it will 
occupy many a leisure hour which was once dreamed away over 



182 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

those numbers of the "Sea Side Library" and like publications 
which we know so well. It is the proper province of a lecture 
to arouse our interest and direct our attention to the paths of 
knowledge, as a sign-post points out the best road to the traveler. 
I think you will certainly find the region of the Nile a very 
attractive one, and you will have no difficulty in finding your 
way, for there are many experienced guides ready to go with you. 

Travelers who have gone to see, and antiquarians who have 
gone to study, all, more or less, under the influence of the 'potent 
spell which Egypt seems to cast over all who dwell awhile in 
her borders, wait to go with you, ready to answer your questions 
and astonish you with revelations from a long buried world. 

Although most of the information which we gain from the 
labors of Egyptologists, and other antiquarian explorers in all 
parts of the world, belongs rather to the domain of Archaeology 
than to that of Art; still it would not be right to leave the sub- 
ject of Pre-historic Art without at least a glance at the wonderful 
discoveries which have been made at Nineveh and Babylon, 
Mycenae and Hissarlik. We must also pause awhile and examine 
the works bequeathed to us by those gifted old people who lived 
in Etrunia, and who are in some respects as mysterious and puz- 
zling as the great Pyramid itself. 

We will begin then with Assyria. Not because the Assyrian 
relics are next to the Egyptian in point of age, but because the 
Assyrian civilization is more nearly allied to that of Egypt, 
while the Etrurians resemble the Greeks, whose magnificent 
achievements in Art will soon engage our attention. 

What we know of Assyrian art is founded almost exclusively 
upon the recent discoveries of M. Botta, Sir A. H. Layard and 
Mr. Rassam among the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon. The 
specimens of sculpture which have been exhumed are, like those 
of Egypt, stiff and archaic in style and almost devoid of grace, 
at the same time they are often impressive from their immense 
size, and a sort of graudeur of appearance. 

The paintings are historical, and resemble those on the painted 
walls in Egypt, being intended to record certain events, or portray 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 183 

the customs of the people, and not to convey any impression of 
beauty. As you may not have read Mr. Layard's books, or 
other accounts of these explorations, I will give you a short 
description of some of his discoveries, and from these you can 
form an opinion as to the kind of art- work which was done in 
the days of the Assyrian empire. You have no doubt read of 
the wonderful library which was found at Nineveh, with its 
extensive annals of history, and of the studies of the learned 
men who have been hard at work deciphering these records. 
The library is not contained in books, and not even written on 
parchment or papyrus, but consists of an immense number of 
flat tiles and bricks with inscriptions in very small characters. 
These inscriptions were impressed on the clay while it was soft 
and afterwards the bricks were baked. , 

A great many interesting facts have been thus brought to light, 
and we are startled to find ourselves as it were brought face to 
face with kings and warriors whose names have been lono- 
familiar to us in the Scriptural history of the Jews. A great 
many of the relics were discovered in excavating the ruins of 
the royal palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, and in what is 
called the North-west palace at Nimroud, the most ancient 
edifice hitherto discovered in Assyria. But when we think of 
those vast mounds which still remain unopened lying around the 
sites of ancient Nineveh and Babylon'sometimes surmounted by 
a Mahommedan chapel, or covered with Arab huts, we must feel 
that only a small part of this old life is yet revealed to us. 
When the explorations were first commenced, no one could be 
found who could read the cuneform inscriptions, but, of course, 
all the energy and learning of students of oriental history were 
at once enlisted, and before long their patient labors began to 
bear fruit, and their difficulties were overcome one after another, 
until now it is confidently expected that we will soon have a 
complete translation of all these strange old writings. It will 
certainly be interesting some day to read a history of Assyria 
written by those who were living in the time of the history itself. 

The relics which have especial interest for us, as art-students, 



184 .ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

are the painted tiles, the bas-reliefs, which are found extend- 
ing round the walls of chambers and galleries, and the colossal 
figures of men and animals. Probably the most artistic of these 
are the bas-reliefs — that is, with the exception of the engraved 
gems, seals, &e. It is a singular fact that while the statues and 
paintings of the pre-historic age are so wanting in grace and 
beauty, the engraved gems will often be found to be exquisitely 
done. If they had no real art- work on a larger scale, how did those 
old artists accomplish so much in the small and delicate designs of 
the jewelry? The subject of antique work in gem engraving 
furnishes a very interesting branch of study, and you will find 
that a great deal has been done in the way of. making large col- 
lections. Signor Castellani of Rome has probably the finest one 
in the world. The sculptured bas-reliefs, however, are more in 
our line, and we will examine those of Sennacherib's time first, 
though they are not the oldest records. They are found carved 
on slabs of alabaster, limestone and black marble, which were 
inserted as panels in the wall in such a way that the figures and 
inscriptions formed a continuous series. Most of them record 
the history of Sennacherib's warlike expeditions and conquests, 
and we find the costumes of the different nations and the dresses of 
the officers, soldiers and prisoners, all given with the most careful 
minuteness. One series of the bas-reliefs gives an account of the 
conquest of the country of Susiana, and on one of the slabs there 
seems to be a representation of the city of Susa or Shusan. Its 
position between two rivers well agrees with that of existing ruins 
which are generally believed to mark the site. 

The city is represented as surrounded by a wall, with equi- 
distant towers and gate-ways. The houses are flat-roofed, and 
some have one tower or upper-chamber, and others two. They 
have no windows, and their doors are square, and in general form 
resemble the common dwellings of the Egyptians, being not un- 
like the meaner houses of the modern town of Shushter, the 
representative of ancient Susa. 

The adjoining slab is divided into eight bands, or friezes, by 
parallel lines, and the next slab into seven. On both are pictured 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 185 

the Assyrian array returning from its victorious campaign, and 
bringing to the king the captives and the spoils. The principal 
group is composed of the General or Prince of the conquered 
people with a number of the captive Susianians who have come 
to surrender to the Assyrian General. Some kneel, some bow 
down to the ground and others lie prostrate at full length and 
rub their heads in the dust in token of grief and submission. 
The Assyrian warriors are welcomed by bands of men and women, 
singing, dancing and playing on instruments of music. In 
another place the unfortunate prisoners are shown undergoing 
various dreadful tortures at the hands of the executioners, and it 
would seem, in the royal presence. It is surely a comfort to us to 
think that in our day no people could be found who would exhibit 
at the same time evidences of such magnificence and such barba- 
rous cruelty. 

It is no wonder that when the enemies of Assyria found them- 
selves able to retaliate they played the role of conqueror in the 
same fashion, and " made of the defenced city a ruinous heap," 
and visited upon its inhabitants the same sufferings of which they 
had been the victim. It is probable that the ferocious cruelty of 
the Assyrians made them more than usually hated by their neigh- 
bors, for few cities seem to have met with such utter destruction 
at the hands of a conquering foe as Nineveh and Babylon. 

Another series of the sculptured slabs represents the siege of 
Lachish in the time of Hezekiah, King of Judah ; Lachish 
being one of his strongest cities. This series occupies thirteen 
slabs, giving pictures of the different events of the campaign. 
The city appears to be defended by double walls, with battle- 
ments and towers, and fortified outworks. 

Around it the country is hilly and wooded, producing the vine 
and fig, while a great number of warriors are drawn up in battle 
array before the walls. 

From the gate- way of one of the advanced towers or forts, 
issues a procession of captives, reaching to the presence of the 
king, who receives them seated upon his throne. The van- 
quished people are distinguished by their dress, and the warriors 



186 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

of the two armies have different armor and accoutrements. 
The king is portrayed seated on a richly carved throne, dressed 
in gorgeous robes, embroidered, and finished with fringes and 
tassels. Two officers stand behind him holding fans over his 
head, and in the background appears the royal tent or pavilion. 
Beneath the king are his led horses, and an attendant on foot 
carrying the parasol, the emblem of royalty. 

Above the head of the king is an inscription which has been 
translated thus: "Sennacherib, the Mighty King, King of the 
country of Assyria, sitting on the throne of judgment, before 
the city of Lachish. I give permission for its slaughter." The 
captives are undoubtedly Jews, for their physiognomy is strik- 
ingly indicated in the sculptures, but they have been stripped of 
their ornaments and their fine raiment, and left barefooted and 
half-clothed. The series is finished by the ground plan of a 
cast;le or fortified camp containing tents and houses. Within its 
walls are seen priests standing before a fire-altar, and in front of 
the altar a table bearing various sacrificial objects. 

There are a great many more of these sculptured pictures, for 
Mr. Layard uncovered no less than seventy halls, chambers and 
galleries, which were almost all paneled in this way, either with 
alabaster, limestone or black marble. 

You will certainly excuse me from attempting a full descrfption, 
when I tell you that there are enough of these slabs to make a 
series two miles long, and yet these have all been found in one 
palace only. 

But you can easily see that the artists who made them had a 
good deal of skill in drawing, or they could not have given us 
such a clear idea of the scenes they intended to describe. 
Sennacherib, like Rameses II. of Egypt, seemed determined to 
go down in full to the latest posterity, and his " I, Sennacherib," 
confronts you on all sides in the ruined city, and is even found 
on the enameled bricks that the Arabs have gathered up and 
built into the walls of their miserable huts. The celebrated 
Rock Sculptures at Bavian are thought to belong also to his 
reign. The painted and enameled bricks sometimes have designs 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 187 

which are quite spirited, but the painting consists mostly in put- 
ting figures in one tint on a ground made with another single 
color, and without regard to the natural color of the objects. 

On one we have a picture drawn in black outlines on a yellow 
ground, in another you will find a costume elaborately drawn, 
and colored blue and yellow with fringes of white. In another, 
blue horses with white trappings are attached to a yellow chariot, 
and the whole relieved by a background of olive green. One 
brick twelve by nine inches had a complete little picture on it 
of a king in his royal robes, and around the outside, like a 
frame, was a painted border designed like twisted cords. This 
border occurs in a great deal of the ornamental work. 

No sculptures or inscribed slabs have ever been found in the 
ruins of Babylon, but Diodorus says that the walls of the palaces 
in the ancient city were ornamented with historical and religious 
paintings, and with bricks which were enameled and painted 
with figures of men and animals. A multitude of small objects 
have been discovered there, such as bronze plates, cups, ladles, 
gold ear-rings, moulds for casting gold ornaments, &c. All 
showing that the Babylonians had skilled workmen who could 
handle their tools deftly, and were acquainted with the art of 
casting bronze, but none of them exhibiting any real knowledge 
of design, as we now understand it. 

In the last five or six years Dr. Henry Schlieman has also 
made some very valuable additions to our store of antiquarian 
knowledge, by his discoveries at Hissarlik and Mycenae. Dr. 
Schlieman, who, by the way, writes himself an American, though 
a native of Amsterdam, was always an enthusiastic lover of 
Greek literature, and a great admirer of Homer. His explora- 
tions were undertaken in a pure spirit of enthusiasm, his great 
desire being to prove that there was a real historical basis for 
the Homeric poems, that there was certainly a city of Troy, 
which some have doubted, and that Asramemnon, and Kino; 
Priam, and Achilles and the others were real personages who 
lived, and fought, and loved, and quarreled pretty much as 
Homer says they did. Dr. Schlieman thinks that at Hessarlik he 



188 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

has certainly unearthed the ruins of the city of Troy, and opened 
the tombs of warriors who lived in the time of the celebrated 
siege. 

Indeed, the relics which he discovered give very strong sup- 
port to his theory. They evidently belong to a very early period, 
as all the archaeologists agree. All the implements, utensils and 
weapons which have been discovered are of copper and bronze, 
such as are described by Homer, in the Iliad. No iron or steel 
among them. The pottery which is found is all hand-made, not 
made on a potter's wheel, and the articles of jewelry and the 
arms were of a fashion long forgotten. There were two golden 
head-dresses found which seem to supply a perfect explanation of 
the twined or plated fillet of gold which formed part of the 
head-dress of Andromache which she tore off in her grief at 
Hector's death. 

There was a cup also found, made of the electron, a metal 
made of a mixture of gold and silver, which is described by 
Homer. 

A number of short inscriptions were discovered, which were 
in Greek, in a very ancient Cypriote character. There were many 
other points of identification which seem almost to prove that 
these remains belong to inhabitants of the veritable old city of 
Troy. 

In 1876, Dr. Schlieman, pursuing his purpose, procured per- 
mission to make excavations among the tombs at Mycenae and 
Olympia, in Greece. Mycenae, you will remember, was the 
capital city of Agamemnon, who was King of Argos, and Com- 
mander-in-chief of the allied army of Greeks in the Trojan 
war. The site of the place has always been known, and there 
is still standing there a portion of the old wall with a gate-way, 
evidently of great. age, surmounted by two lions standing on 
their hind feet, who are, however, so rudely carved that you can 
scarcely tell whether they are lions or cats, or elephants. 

The tombs near there have always been noted, too, and one of 
them has been pointed out from time immemorial as the tomb of 
King Agamemnon and his com pan ions, who were treacherously 



SST. MARY'S MUSE. 189 

jjut to death after their return from Troy, by Clytemnestra, Aga- 
memnon's wife. To this tomb, therefore, went Dr. Schlieman, 
and with a sort of sacrilegious zeal, determined to restore King 
Agamemnon to the region of facts and reality, by finally remov- 
ing every trace of him out of his own grave. Sure enough, he 
found bodies in this deep sepulchre, which we can easily believe 
may be those of the ill-fated warrior and his friends, but while 
there was any amount of gold crowns, gold belts, gold bracelets 
and bronze axes, which in their day were exceedingly costly, there 
was no sign of an inscription to tell us that these once belonged 
to the King of Argos. Some of the bronze and golden objects 
were beautifully ornamented by spiral and circular lines. There 
were twenty-five two-edged swords, four of which had richly 
ornamented handles of gold plate. There were golden masks, 
which retained the shape of the dead faces, over which they were 
once fitted, and golden leaves and buttons, and jewelry which 
adorned, perhaps, the body of the unfortunate Cassandra. There 
were two massive gold seals, one of which had a chariot on it 
with the horses at full speed, while the other represents a warrior 
who has just vanquished his three enemies. The drawing of the 
figures is so correct and their position so faithful to nature that 
Dr. Schlieman says he was forced to believe that it belonged to 
the art which is so minutely described in the Iliad and Odyssey. 
One of the most interesting things discovered was a golden 
drinking cup with two handles. On each handle was a pigeon 
carved in gold, and a blade of gold connected the handles with 
the bottom of the cup. This does remind one of Nestor's drink- 
ing cup described by Homer in the eleventh book of the Iliad. 
I will give you Pope's translation of this passage, because I have 
it at hand, and not because I admire Pope as a translator of 
Homer: 

"Next, her white hand a spacious goblet brings, 
A goblet sacred to the Pylian Kings 
From eldest times : the massy sculptured vase, 
Glittering with golden studs, four handles grace. 
And curling vines around each handle rolled 
Support two turtle doves embossed in gold." 



190 ST. MARY'S MU8$ f 

What a great pity King Agamemnon did not have his name 
engraved on his cnp after the manner of Rameses and Senna- 
cherib! I believe Dr. S. thinks he did not know how to write, 
and that the Greeks at that time did not even know the alpha- 
bet. The era of the Trojan war has never been fixed as yet by 
chronologists. Some place it as far back as 1316 years B.C., 
others 1226, others 1184. But of course Homer lived a long 
time after. At least it is probable that he lived about nine hun- 
dred years before Christ. Homer, however, certainly died 
before the great Greek artists, and therefore the descriptions of 
art- work which occur in his poems are very surprising, and sug- 
gest an inquiry as to the people who supplied him with the origi- 
nals of the pictures which he draws so graphically. His descrip- 
tions are so minute and careful, and relate so much to the man- 
ner in which the work was done, that we cannot think he derived 
them entirely from his own imagination. 

The most famous of all is his " Shield of Achilles," which 
has been the subject of so much discussion among antiquarians. 
This shield is a part of the armor made by Vulcan for Achilles 
at the intercession of his mother, Thetis. Vulcan is decribed as 
first preparing the metal, and 

"Then he formed the immense and solid shield ; 
Eich various artifice emblazed the field ; 
Its utmost verge a threefold circle bound ; 
A silver chain suspends the massy round ; 
Five ample plates the broad expanse compose 
And godlike labors on the surface rose." 

He then ffoes on to enumerate the various scenes in which 
were reflected the " image of the master mind." There were 
twelve pictures in all, animated and full of motion, and descrip- 
tive of actual life ; that is, with the exception of the earth, sea 
and heavenly bodies, and the great ocean river which encom- 
passed the whole, as Homer imagined it surrounded the earth. 

Among the pictures on the shield was one of a vintage, with 
people gathering grapes; and observe with how much skill it 
seems to have been wrought out in the various metals : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 191 

"Next ripe in yellow gold a vineyard shines, 
Bent with the pondrous harvest of its vines ; 
A deeper dye the dangling clusters show, 
And pales of glittering tin the enclosure grace. 
To this, one pathway gently winding leads, 
Where march a train with baskets on their heads, 
(Fair maids, and blooming youths) that smiling bear 
The purple product of the autumnal year." 

You will find the whole description of the shield in the 
eighteenth book of the Iliad, and you ought by all means to read 
it, not only for its intrinsic merit, but its interest in connection 
with the question of pre-historic art. 

Another collection of antiquities in the way of art is the 
Cesnola collection of objects discovered in the island of Cypress 
by General Pal ma Cesnola. Most of them are now. in the 
Metropolitan Museum of Art in Central Park, New York, and 
you will find an account of them in the June number of Har- 
per's Magazine for 1880. 

There still remains the extensive field of research offered by 
the study of ancient Etruscan art. We can do no more here 
than give a mere glance at the multitude of its treasures, and 
give an idea of what is meant by the term Etruscan. To give 
you anything like a detailed account of a hundredth part of the 
objects which have been discovered from time to time would 
require volumes. In fact, many books have been published on 
this subject, and one of them, Inghirami's Etruscan Monuments, 
an Italian publication, contains four quarto volumes. 

First then, who were the Etruscans or Etrurians ? You need 
not be ashamed to say you do not know, for notwithstanding the 
question has been asked many times for many centuries, nobody 
has ever answered it, for nobody knows, or can find out. 

Etruria was a beautiful region in northern Italy, bounded west 
by the Mediterranean, east by the Apennines, north by the river 
Magra, and south by the Tiber. A small territory compared to 
the immense tracts of country which we are accustomed to in 
America, but one which was nevertheless once the home of a 
people who attained a degree of refinement and excellence in art- 



192 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

culture which was surpassed only by the Greeks in the days of 
their greatest splendor. 

The Greeks called the inhabitants of Etruria Tyrrheni, and 
the Romans called them Etrusci, and Tusci, from which was 
derived the modern name Tuscany. But these names throw no 
light on the history of this ancient people, because they knew 
nothing of either, and called themselves Rasena. Some ancient 
writers thought that Etruria was originally settled by a colony 
from Lydia, but the entire absence of similarity between the 
language, religion and customs of the supposed colony and the 
mother country seems to be a conclusive argument against this 
hypothesis. 

Others suppose that it was a Greek colony, but in latter times 
vases have been found with Greek inscriptions, and other relics 
which go to show that Etruria enjoyed a high degree of civiliza- 
tion while Greece was still in a semi-barbarous condition. Some 
archaeologists have therefore advanced the opposite theory that 
Greece received her knowledge of the fine arts from Etruria, 
which, however, leaves us still in the dark as to where Etruria 
got them. In this dilemma some are inclined to resort to Egypt 
as being at least old enough to answer the purpose, but this does 
not meet with much favor, for there is such a great contrast 
between the best Etrurian work and the attempts at art which 
we find in ancient Egypt, that the proposition is almost absurd. 
So we will leave the region of conjecture and come back to the 
simple facts that the Etrurians were a wonderful people, and 
that we do not know anything of their origin. 

As to their art-work, it is scattered now all over the known 
world, and if you ever travel you will find it in every well filled 
museum of art. They excelled chiefly in bronze work, and in 
making sculptured and painted vases, and in ornamenting all 
articles of comfort and luxury. Their vases have never been 
surpassed in grace and elegance of form, and give evidence of a 
real love of beauty which is very different from anything we 
have seen in Egypt and Assyria. It is not equal to the highest 
style of Greek art, but it distinctly foreshadows it. The bas- 
reliefs with which many of the vases are decorated, are peculiar 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 193 

in style and graceful in drawing. They are different from all 
other work of this kind. The painted vases do not show any 
attempt at light shade or any mixture of colors, but are generally 
decorated with designs in black or brownish red. 

Among the oldest Etruscan relics are the Sarcophagi which 
were intended to hold the ashes of the dead, and not their bodies. 
They are much smaller and shorter than a coffin, and usually 
have a recumbent figure on the lid, which is supposed to repre- 
sent the deceased person. I have seen one which was said to be 
three thousand years old, and I have no doubt it was, if one may 
judge from appearances. It looked as if it might have been in 
existence since the creation. The sculptured and painted vases 
have, however, attracted the attention of antiquarians more than 
any other remains of Etruscan art, and several lengthy treatises 
have been written about them by various authors. So you see 
how extensive the subject of Pre-historic Art is, and what a great 
amount of knowledge we could accumulate on these matters if 
we could only live long enough to do it. " Fortunate is he," 
said Goethe, " who at an early age has learned to know what Art 
is !" He must have felt that a true knowledge of so comprehensive 
a thing as art is was very difficult to be attained. But at the same 
time he no doubt used the term "Art" in a different sense from its 
ordinary meaning, and meant that in its higher signification, Art 
cannot be truly understood till much of life and nature has been 
learned, and that in the school of experience as well as by study. 
As for us, I think at present we feel somewhat relieved at the 
prospect of leaving the tombs and caves, and coming up into the 
open air — the free, pure air, full of sunlight and beauty, that 
awaits us in the land of the Greeks. 

'Tis there our footsteps must next be directed; to the land of 
the beauty-loving Greeks, whose mission seemed to be to teach 
the world how to give poetry and grace a form and shape of 
immortal loveliness. Other nations sought to excel by imitation, 
or to conform the soul of art to the narrow limits of imperfect 
conception. The Greeks seemed never to feel the fetters of ma- 
terialism. Free and aspiring, they basked in the light of a full 
revelation, and became its Prophets and its Law-givers. 



ST. MAEY'S MUSE. 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 

Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

Jgiglf Correspondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of L. Branson. 



Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Raleigh, N. C. 



The following standard magazines will be* furnished with the Muse for one 
year at the rates given below : — Aldine, price $6, with Muse $6 ; American 
Art Review, price $12, with Muse $12 ; American Journal of Science and Art, 
price $6, with Muse $6 ; Atlantic Monthly, price $4, with Muse $4 ; Blackwood's 
Monthly, price $4, with Muse $4 ; Harper's Magazine, price $4, with Muse $4 ; 
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tion will be furnished with the Muse at reduced rates. 



Our charming little visitor, The Palladium, is always wel- 
come. It may be ahead of us in some respects besides the 
" endowments " (which we still insist upon), but we are " head " 
in geography at least this time, since we do know that Raleigh 
is the capital of North Carolina. Strange the types so often 
make such mistakes ! 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 195 

The sunny days that ushered in the new term were happily 
reflected in the brighter spirits with which (examinations well 
over) the girls entered upon their new routine of duty. We are 
glad to note the addition of eighteen new names to our " roll." 
Crowded now to her utmost capacity, Alma Mater is clamoring 
for increased accommodations. 

Miss DeRosset's Christmas holidays were spent with our 
dear old friend Fanny Huger, in Charleston. She returned full 
of pleasant accounts of that aristocratic city by the sea, and of 
its warm-hearted hospitality to herself. 

Miss Tew was quite as much charmed with the more quiet 
fascinations of the mountain village of Greenville, S. C, where 
dear friends made happy holidays for her. 

After an absence of nearly two years Annie Sargent ('79) 
has come back to avail herself of the exceptional advantages St. 
Mary's now affords in the two departments of Fine Arts, Music 
and Painting. 

Mary Hardin too has returned for vocal and instrumental 
music, and it is rumored that Sue Cunningham will soon come 
to resume the studies which to her great regret were interrupted 
last year. 

It is delightful to see these dear familiar faces among us again, 
and to feel that our girls after enjoying the gay pleasures of 
society for a season, can voluntarily turn from them and devote 
a few more years of their youth to self-culture. 

We must note a charming visit and lecture from our Rt. Rev. 
Father in God Bishop Lyman. Baalbec, Damascus and the 
Fountain of Fijeh offered a theme fruitful of interesting 
information, which his delighted audience were not slow to avail 
themselves of. Some one promised a short outline of the lecture 
for the Muse, but it is, we fear, too late to catch this month's 
issue. The Bishop promises us still another evening before 
entering upon his spring visitations. These will necessarily be 
more arduous now that he is alone in the administration of this 



196 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

broad jurisdiction of North Carolina; and we gratefully ac- 
knowledge his kindness in bestowing so much of his valuable 
time upon our corner of his vineyard. 

The attractions of the Sternberg- Wilhelmj Concert brought 
us a visit from Lizzie Curtis, of Hillsboro. Her devotion to 
music is as fresh as when a school girl, and she fully participated 
in the delight we all experienced in listening to the witching 
strains of the great virtuoso. Sternberg's playing was equally 
enjoyable, though we could but wish that his estimate of musi- 
cal culture in this part of the world had allowed him to give 
such slecteions as we particularly desired to hear. Miss Fritch's 
voice is fresh and pure and flexible. Balfe's "Sweetheart" song 
as rendered by her, seemed to be lifted far above our previous 
conceptions of its artistic beauty, and displayed to perfection the 
natural capabilities as well as the finished cultivation of the 
young singer. The visits to our capital of such artists as these 
and the Mendelssohn Quintette Club go far to compensate us for 
the superior "attractions and advantages" of city schools. 

It is especially gratifying to our pride that both these troups 
came to Raleigh under the auspices of St. Mary's, inducements 
having been offered them by the liberality of our enterprising 
Director of Music. 

Among a number of cordial letters from former pupils to the 
Muse, is one from Alice Gayle, now Mrs. Hagood, of Galves- 
ton, Texas. She encloses a year's subscription and writes as 
follows : 

"Dear Muse: — I thank you most heartily for recently wend- 
ing your way to my far-off Texas home. As you know, we 
have been wisely counselled to " Drink deep, or else taste not of 
the Pierian Spring," so I feel assured you will not expect me to 
be content with one delicious draught. Cognizance of the 
pleasure this visit has afforded me, will, I trust, induce a gen- 
erous response to my cordial entreaty that you vouchsafe me 
always in your journeyings a kind remembrance. 

With grateful and affectionate regard, I am, truly yours, 

A. G. Hagood." 






ST. MARY'S MUSE. 197 

Mrs. Hagood's loving confidence in St. Mary's was still more 
substantially manifested last September when her only daughter 
was sent to be enrolled among our pupils. 

Another, Mrs. Virginia L. Beck, of Council Bluff, Iowa, says : 

" Some time since, I received a copy of " St. Mary's Muse," 
of June last, the first I have ever seen. I notice that former 
pupils are requested to send in their fees, and have their names 
enrolled as early as possible. Now I am an old St. Mary's girl, 
and would like to have received some former numbers of the 
Muse so that I might know the amount of the fee desired, and 
the object to be obtained. Living so far away, and having few 
correspondents in the Old North State, I have lost all trace of 
St. Mary's, and can assure you I was delighted to hear some- 
thing of it through the Muse. My interest was so awakened 
by the familiar old family names of the girls who took part in 
the commencement exercises that I feel I must become one of 
the enrolled, and shall be glad to remit the fee as soon as I learn 
what it is. * * * I have a little daughter not yet old 
enough to be sent from home, but when she is, I hope to take 
her to St. Mary's for a few years !" 

Yours, &c, 

Virginia L. Beck." 

Still another, Tina Deputy, writes from Helena, Ark., "$1 
is too slight a token of my love and gratitude to St. Mary's 
aud Dr. Smedes, and too small an amount for such an object as 
the Alumna? Scholarship." So she sends $5. 

Mrs. Shober (May Wheat) has done a good work for the 
scholarship in Salisbury, and sends thirteen subscriptions; some of 
them "in memoriam" by friends and relatives of old girls who 
have long since departed this life. 

It seems to us that fully half — and that the handsomer half 
too — of the "distinguished members" of the present Legislature, 
have St. Mary's girls for their better-halves. We are proud to 
see so many of them adorning society in its high places, and 
surely it is a pleasure to welcome them to their old haunts, and 
hear their cordial words of happy days gone by, and their kind 
wishes for our continued welfare and prosperity. 



198 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

We are glad once more to see Mary Ambler ('79), who is 
visiting Miss Heck, in Raleigh, and is looking bright and well. 

Miss Sadie Smedes is with us for a short visit, and it is 
rumored that she and her mother, Mrs. Aldert Smedes, will ere 
long return to take up her permanent abode in Raleigh. 

We are pleased to see Mrs. Lyman at home again after her 
long absence. Miss Lyman is to remain with friends in Wash- 
ington until after the fourth of March, to witness the pomp and 
pageantry of the inaugural ceremonies. 

ON DIT, that Mrs. Meares talks of a vacation tour to Niagara, 
Canada, &c, in charge of any of her girls (old or new) who 
would like to accompany her. Wonder if it is true, and who 
will be able to avail themselves of such a pleasant opportunity 
for a summer excursion. 

Preparations are making by a number of our household for 
a trip to Europe during the holidays. Of the musical corps 
Mr. Sanborn, Frauelein Blume and Miss Smedes propose to go, 
and Miss Norwood of the Art Department, whose zeal and enter- 
prise in her field keeps her always up to the requirements of 
modern progress, will also join the party. 

Three new pianos have replaced so many old ones in the 
music rooms. One of them a lovely "Stieff, " upright, is in the 
Professor's room for the benefit of his pupils. Another of pecu- 
liarly sweet and liquid tone is for Frauelein's vocalists, and the 
third is still in dispute between the rival claims of Misses Smedes 
and deRosset. 

We would ask attention to the Editor's club rates as adver- 
tised in this issue. We desire to increase our subscription list, 
especially among the old scholars and friends of the school, 
many of whom are doubtless constant readers of one or another 
of the periodicals named. Arrangements have been made by 
which we can furnish the Muse with any of these magazines at 
the price of the latter alone. 



ST MARY'S MUSE. 199 



TO THE ALUMNA OF ST MARY'S. 



The frequent inquiry, " How does the Alumnae Association 
grow?" suggests the idea that it may be well to publish the list 
of its members. This includes only the names of those who 
have paid the annual fee. A good many others have signified 
their desire to have their names enrolled, which will be done, and 
their subscriptions acknowledged in the Muse as soon as they 
come to hand. The fees for 1881 are due on or before June 1st. 

The sad loss the Association has sustained in the death of its 
earnest and warm-hearted President, very seriously cripples its 
intended action with regard to candidates for the scholarship. 
It is now thought more prudent to wait until the election of 
new officers at the close of the present session, before incurring 
any pecuniary responsibility. We grieve to disappoint the hopes 
of those who desired immediately to avail themselves of the ad- 
vantages offered, and sincerely trust that the delay may not be 
longer than next September. 

It will require constant interest and persevering effort on the 
part of each member to keep the fund up to the yearly demand 
upon it; but we, who from our central position, can best estimate 
the value of this work, are more and more impressed with its 
promise of permanent and valuable results. 

Let us not, then, lag in it, dear friends; but little by little, 
surely if slowly, lay deep our foundations. As great buildings 
arise, " brick by brick," so must each place one every year in our 
" memorial." Many of us can place many more than one. So 
let each one of us do according to her ability, not grudgingly or 
of necessity, but with the cheerful, loving spirit that befits our 
work. 

Some day (who knows?) we may see our Alma Mater an 
incorporated institution, with perhaps more than one endowed 
scholarship. But let ours be the first. Let us remember that 
our revered founder, himself established free scholarships in 
Christian schools for heathen children of foreign lands, and surely 



200 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

we, his favored daughters, for the love of him and of each other, 
may support at St. Mary's the orphan or needy child of one of 
our own number. 

Mrs. Annie B. Aiken Darien, Georgia. 

Miss Janie O. Allen Windsor, N. C. 

Mrs. Wm. M. Boylan Raleigh " 

" James Boylan " " 

" James S. Battle Rocky Mount, N. C. 

" Richard C. Badger Raleigh, 

" LeRoy G. Bagley 

Miss Emmie R. Benberry " 

" Lucy P. Battle " 

" Ellen P. Brownlow Warren ton, 

Mrs. Wm. R. Cox Raleigh, 

" Overton Cade New Iberia, La. 

" Rebecca B. Crosson Pittsburg, Pa. 

" Pulaski Cowper Raleigh, N. C 

Miss Annie C. Collins Hillsboro, " 

" Kate D. Cheshire Tarboro, " 

" E. J. Czarnomska Brooklyn, N. Y. 

" Kate F. Curtis Hillsboro, N. C. 

" Olivia B. Cowper Raleigh, 

Mrs. Graham Daves Wilmington, N. C. 

Miss Mary Dortch Goldsboro, " 

" Corinne Dortch " 

Mrs. Otelia J. Eaton Laurinburg, 

" Paul Faison Raleigh, 

" Mary Griffin Lewiston, 

" Wm. L. Hawley Fayetteville, " 

" Joanna Hall Thomasville, " 

" Elliott W. Hazzard*... Germantown, S. C. 

" D.H.Hamilton Hillsboro, N. C. 

Miss Kate R. Hamilton " 

*Sent $4. 






ST. MARY'S MUSE. 201 

Miss Annie P. Hawkins Warrenton, N. C. 

Mrs. Mary Iredell Raleigh, " 

" Josh. C. James Wilmington, " 

" W. W. Jones Hendersonville, " 

" Cad. Jones, Jr Greensboro, Ala. 

Miss Fannie I. Johnson Raleigh, N. C. 

" Helen B. Johnson " " 

Mrs. Bessie Smedes Leake Wadesboro, N. C. 

Miss Sallie R. Lewis Charleston, S. C. 

" Emma A. Law Raleigh, N. C. 

Mrs. Kate DeR. Meares " " 

" Wm. Martin Norfolk, Va. 

" Jas. Martin Asheville, N. C. 

" John Myers Charlotte, " 

" Jas. C. Munds Wilmington, N. C. 

" Lossie DeR. Myers " " 

" Nannie D. McLean New Berne, " 

" Basil C. Manly Raleigh, " 

" Jane I. Meares Wilmington, " 

Miss Kate McKimmon Raleigh, N. C. 

" Eliza McKee, " " 

" Annie Martin Asheville, " 

" Josephine W. Myers Wilmington, N. C. 

Mrs. Sam'l S. Nash Tarboro, " 

" Mary McK. Nash New Berne, " 

" N. J. Pittman, Tarboro, " 

" Rob't B. Peebles Jackson, " 

Miss Minerva B. Pittman Tarboro, " 

" Bella Parker " " 

" Annie B. Perkins Raleigh, " 

" Carrie F. Patterson Salem, " 

Mrs. Samuel Ruffin Louisburg, " 

Miss Annie Roulhac Hillsboro, " 

Mrs. E. McK. Roberts New Berne, " 

Mrs. Annie Smedes Root Raleigh, " 

Miss Lena Smith Scotland Neck, " 



202 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

Miss. Adelaide Smith '....Leaksville, N. C. 

Miss M. C. Smedes New Iberia, Ala. 

Mr. R. C. Smedes " " " 

Miss Juliet B. Somerville Rocky Mount, N. C. 

" Lida N. Starke Norfolk, Va. 

" Stella V.Shaw Raleigh, N. C. 

Mrs. Frank B. Shober Salisbury, " 

" Wm. B. Shepard Edenton, " 

" R.S.Tucker Raleigh " 

Miss Lula S. Tucker " " 

" Emma L. Tew Anderson, S. C. 

" EllaG. Tew Raleigh, N. C. 

Mrs. S. S. Tennant Asheville, " 

" Burgess Urquhart* Roxabel, " 

Miss Kate V. Wheaton Savannah, Ga. 

Mrs. Jos. Webb Hillsboro, N. C. 

" Arete E. Yarborough Louisburg, " 

Since the above was in type the following names have been 
received : 

Mrs. Nathaniel Boyden, in memory of her daughters — 

Sarah Boyden ('45) Salisbury, N. C. 

Ruth M. Boyden('51) " 

Sally H. Mitchell ('51) 

Mary Jane Leake ('67) " 

Fanny M. Miller ('60) 

Wm. H. Overman, in memory of his wife — 

Laura C. Murphy ('68) 

Henrietta M. Hall ('61) 

Sarah Jane Bailey ('45) " 

Bessie B. Cain ('68) 

Carry McNeely ('72) 

Jennie Coffin ('72) " 

May Shober ('71) 

Annie Macay ('72) 

Tina Deputy 1 " Helena, Ark. 

*Sent $5. 



ST. MAEY'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, March, 1881. No. 7. 



A JOURNEY FROM BAALBEC TO DAMASCUS. 



On our way to Damascus we paused at the dilapidated old city 
of Baalbec, to gaze upon the wonderful ruins and examine the 
antique architecture of the grand old temples built so many years 
ago. 

First, we visited the magnificent remains of the Temple of the 
Sun, or Baal. . This temple was erected upon the ruins of a still 
more ancient temple. In this sub-structure are three immense 
stones which are thought by many to have been placed there by 
Solomon, the supposed builder, at the time he was induced by 
his wives to worship Baal ; others believe that they were manu- 
factured on the spot. The latter supposition is not very proba- 
ble, for, as we pursued our journey, we came to another stone of 
exactly the same dimensions and kind as these, and which had 
been cut down at the four sides, but had not yet been detached. 

We passed from the Temple of the Sun to that of Jupiter. 
What is termed the temple proper is surrounded by immense 
columns of cream-colored marble, built in the Corinthian style, 
and beautifully carved. There is a spiral staircase built within 
one of these columns. 

As we continued our tour, almost overcome by exhaustion and 
the heat of the sun, suddenly our eyes fell upon a stream of clear 
water, which burst from the side of a mountain whose rich ver- 
dure rendered it pleasing to our eyes. Immediately our fatigue 
vanished and we stood immovable in silent admiration. The 
last rays of the setting sun formed a halo above the mountain, 
and colored the vegetation with the hues of the rainbow, while 



208 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the water flowing from the fountain presented the appearance of 
large diamonds, rubies and emeralds, which, as they were thrust 
continually out of the opening in the mountain, burst into a 
thousand fragments of fewer diversified tints, and again seemed 
to mass together as they fell into the Burada, changing this small, 
muddy stream into a large river. The crystal waters flowing 
majestically on to the city of Damascus, reflected the whole of 
this lovely scene, and each little bubble repeated the picture. 

By the fountain we camped, and it was with regret that we, 
next morning, took leave of its bright waters. 

Then began a tedious journey across an endless, weary desert, 
and yup a steep mountain. We inquired of our guide why he 
took us this round-about way, but he merely told us to wait and 
see for ourselves; so we rode on impatiently until we gained the 
summit of a high mountain, and there below us lay the city of 
Damascus. The spectacle was the grandest conceivable ; in the 
distance the stately temples, towering far above the city walls, 
appeared to pierce the sky and cast their shadows like white 
clouds over the azure canopy, while the rich, green, regular 
heights of the shrubbery and trees seemed like terraces, extend- 
ing to the heavens. 

We descended by a winding path, crossed the sunlit plain, and 
entered by one of the city gates into Damascus. Soon we found 
ourselves in the street called Straight, which, strange to say, is 
very crooked. After turning its many corners, we came to the 
Abdel Malek, which seems to look down with haughty satisfac- 
tion from its superior height upon the mosques and temples of 
less grandeur. 

One of these lesser temples interested us very much. It was 
an old church, now used as a Mahometan mosque. It was im- 
possible to get a distinct view of it on account of the shops built 
against the sides. We climbed to the top of one of these shops 
and from there were able to get an unobstructed view of the 
grand building. Over the old door this inscription is written, 
in Greek : " Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an everlasting king- 
dom, and Thy dominion endureth throughout all generations." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 209 

One day our guide took us through a magnificent Jewish man- 
sion. In the large salon were a number of ladies eating lettuce 
with jelly. On our entering, they laughed merrily and insisted 
upon our joining them; but we begged to be excused. 

Then we visited the garden of a wealthy Greek merchant. 
As we were admiring the flowers, the British Consul, whom we 
knew, came out, bringing us an invitation from the mistress to 
enter the house. We declined, but suddenly the lady appeared 
with so cordial a welcome that we changed our minds and 
accepted the kind invitation, although our travelling costumes 
were scarcely fit for paying a visit. We were ushered into an im- 
mense and elegantly furnished room, in which a number of gaily 
dressed ladies were seated. All were provided with cigarettes, 
and, from the way they laughed, they seemed to enjoy them very 
much. They asked us to join them, but only the gentlemen of 
our party complied. 

Next we went to one of the Turkish bazaars, and there, in the 
middle of the floor, upon a rich cushion, sat the Turk, cigar in 
hand, the very personification of laziness, as he watched the 
wreaths of smoke circling about him, and denied the possession 
of any articles called for, which might be beyond reach of his 
rod. He would rather not sell than trouble to get up and find 
what was wanted. 

We rose very early on the morning of our departure, and, as 
we stood ready to mount our mules, took a hasty, but memora- 
ble look at the city. It was wrapt in stillness; hardly a human 
being was astir. In the distance stood in solemn grandeur the 
Abdel Malek, round whose turrets and pinnacles the little birds 
gathered to warble their morning chant. Then, as the eastern 
sky gave signs of the rising sun, the city blushed for shame that 
he should find her still sleeping. 

Slowly we turned our faces from Damascus, while the palm 
trees waved a farewell and the gentle breeze whispered "good- 
bye." 



210 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



"THE PRISONERS OF THE CAUCASUS. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF X. DE MAISTRE. 



(CONTINUED.) 

It is difficult to imagine the pleasure which the unexpected 
sight afforded the Major. Russia! Russia! was all he could say. 
The travellers seated themselves, in order to rest and to enjoy in 
anticipation their approaching freedom. The presentment of 
happiness was strangely mixed in Kascambo's mind with the 
recollection of the horrible catastrophe which he had witnessed 
so lately, and which his fetters and clothes stained with blood, 
vividly recalled. With his gaze fixed on the distant boundary 
of the road, he calculated the difficulties of the trip. The aspect 
of the long and dangerous route which lay before him, with his 
feet in fetters, and his limbs swollen with fatigue, very soon 
effaced the trace of momentary pleasure which had been caused 
by the sight of his native land. To his anxiety and weariness 
was added an ardent thirst. Ivan went down to the rivulet 
which ran at some distance, to get water for his master: he 
found there a bridge formed of two trees, and saw in the distance 
a small habitation. It was a sort of cottage, a summer-house of 
the Tchetchenges, which was found deserted. In the present 
situation of the fugitives this isolated dwelling was a precious 
discovery. Ivan returned, and drew his master from his sad 
thoughts by conducting him to the refuge which he had found, 
and as soon as he was established there, he began to search for 
provisions. The inhabitants of the Caucasus, who are, for the 
most part, half nomadic, and often exposed to the incursion of 
their neighbors, always dig near their dwellings, caves in which 
they conceal their prisoners and their goods. Their store-houses, 
in the shape of narrow pits, are closed with a plank or a large 
stone, covered with earth, aud are always dug in corners where 
there is no grass, for fear that the color of the herbage would 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 211 

betray the spot. In spite of these precautions the Russian sol- 
diers often discover them. They strike the ground with the 
ramrods of their muskets in the paths which are near the 
houses, and the sound indicates the hollows which they seek. 
Ivan discovered one of them under a shed near the house, in 
which he found some earthen pots, some ears of maize, apiece of 
rock salt, and several household utensils. He ran to bring water 
to establish his kitchen ; the quarter of mutton and the potatoes 
which lie had brought were placed on the fire. While the soup 
was preparing Kascambo roasted the ears of maize, and some 
nuts, also found in the store-house, completed the repast. 

When they had finished, Ivan with more time and means at 
his disposal, succeeded in freeing his master from his fetters, and 
the latter, refreshed and made comfortable, slept profoundly 
until night had closed in. In spite of this favorable repose, 
when he wished to resume the journey his swollen limbs were so 
stiff that he could not move without experiencing the most insup- 
portable pain. However, it was necessary to set out. Leaning 
on his domestic, he sadly proceeded, persuaded that he would 
never arrive at the desired destination. The motion and the 
heat of the walk allayed little by little the pain which he felt. 
He marched all night, stopping often to take a short rest. 

Sometimes we would give way to discouragement, and throw- 
ing himself on the ground, would beg Ivan to leave him to his 
miserable fate. His intrepid companion not only encouraged 
him by his words and example, but almost employed force to 
support him and pull him along with him. They found in their 
route a difficult and dangerous pass, which could not be avoided ; 
to wait for the daylight would have caused them an irreparable 
loss of time ; they decided to attempt the passage, even at the 
risk of being precipitated on the stones below ; but before allow- 
ing his master to try it, Ivan wished to reconnoitre, and to cross 
alone. While he descended, Kascambo remained on the edge of 
the rock in an indescribable state of anxiety. The night was 
dark ; he heard beneath him the dull murmuring of a rapid 
river which ran in the valley ; the noise of the stones which 



212 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

were detached under Ivan's tread, and fell in the water below, 
proved to him the immense height of the precipice over which he 
had stopped. In this moment of anguish, which might be the 
last of his life, thoughts of his mother filled his mind ; she had 
blessed him tenderly on his departure for the line; this thought 
renewed his courage. A secret presentiment gave him hopes of 
seeing her again. "My God \" he cried, "let not her benediction 
be lost !" As he finished this short but fervent prayer, Ivan 
re-appeared. The passage, upon examination, proved not to be 
so difficult as they had at first imagined. After descending some 
fathoms among the rocks, it was necessary, in order to gain a 
passable declivity, to walk along a narrow and leaning bank of 
rocks, covered with sliding snow, below which the side of the 
mountain was perpendicular. Ivan opened some holes in the 
snow with his hatchet, which assisted them in crossing. They 
made the sign of the cross. 

"Let us go," said Kascambo, "if I perish, it will not be for 
lacking courage. Sickness alone is able to take that from me. 
I will go as far as God will give me strength to move." They 
crossed this dangerous ridge in safety, and continued their route. 
The foot-paths began to be more connected and well-beaten ; 
they now found snow only in the corners on the northern side, 
and in low places where it had accumulated. 

They had the good fortune to meet no one until daybreak, 
when the sight of two men, who appeared in the distance, com- 
pelled them to crouch to the ground to avoid being seen. 

On leaving the mountains in these provinces, one no longer 
finds any forests ; the earth is absolutely bare, and it is vain to 
seek a single tree, except on the banks of the large rivers, and 
even there they are much scattered. This is extraordinary, seeing 
the fertility of the soil. The travellers were still following the 
course of the Sonja, (which they must cross to reach Mordok) 
seeking a point where the stream, being more calm, would offer 
them a less dangerous passage, when they discovered a horseman 
riding towards them. 

The country, totally bare of trees and bushes, afforded them 
no means of concealment. They cowered under the bank of the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 213 

Sonja, near the water's edge. The horseman passed within a 
few feet of their hiding-place. Their intention was only to 
defend themselves if they were attacked. Ivan drew his poniard 
and gave the Major the pistol. Perceiving then, that the rider 
was only a boy of twelve or thirteen years, Ivan rushed sud- 
denly on him, seized him by the collar, and threw him on the 
grass. The youth wished to resist, but, seeing the Major 
approach with the pistol, he ran off at full speed. The horse was 
without a saddle, and had in his mouth a halter instead of a 
bridle. The two fugitives at once made use of their capture in 
crossing the river. 

This encounter turned out very fortunately for them, as they 
soon discovered that it would have been impossible to cross the 
river on foot, as they had intended. The animal, however, bur- 
dened with the weight of two men, came very near being drawn 
under by the rapid current. They arrived, however, safe and 
sound on the other bank, which, unfortunately, they found too 
steep for the horse to mount. They dismounted in order to 
relieve him. As Ivan pulled him with all his strength, to make 
him climb the bank, the halter came off and was left in his 
hands. The animal, drawn down by the rapidity of the water, 
after many efforts to reach the land, was engulfed in the stream 
and drowned. Deprived of this resource, but less fearful of the 
danger of pursuit, they directed their steps toward a hillock, 
covered with loose stones, which they saw in the distance, with 
the intention of concealing themselves and resting until night- 
fall. 

By calculating the distance over which they had travelled, they 
judged that the habitations of the peaceful Tchetchenges could 
not be far off, but if they delivered themselves to these men it 
was not at all certain that they would not betray them. How- 
ever, in Kascambo's weak state, it was very difficult for them 
to gain the Tereck without assistance. Their provisions were 
exhausted ; they passed the rest of the day in silence, not daring 
to communicate their mutual anxiety. Toward evening the 
Major saw his denchik strike his brow with his hand, while 






214 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

uttering a profound sigh. Astonished at this sudden despair, 
which his intrepid companion had never shown until then, he 
demanded the cause of it. "Master," said Ivan, "I have com- 
mitted a great fault!" "God is willing to pardon us," replied 
Kascambo, signing himself. "Yes," replied Ivan, "I have for- 
gotten to bring away that beautiful rifle which was in the child's 
chamber. It slipped from my mind. You groaned so, and 
made so much noise, that I forgot it. You smile? It was the 
most beautiful rifle in the village. I would have made a present 
of it to the first man we met, in order to gain his assistance, for 
it is very uncertain, seeing your condition, that we will be able 
to finish our journey." 

[to be continued. 1 



THE TAJ MAHAL. 



India, and particularly the plain of the Jumna, is rich in tem- 
ples and tombs. Some of these have not fallen into decay as 
much as others, and many of the finest are still perfect. One, 
the Taj Mahal, is perhaps the most beautiful monument ever 
erected. The Taj is a mausoleum in the Saracenic style of archi- 
tecture, situated not far from the fort at Agva, and directly on 
the banks of the Jumna. It stands in the same relation to Sara- 
cenic art that the Parthenon does to Grecian art. 

The Taj Mahal was erected by one of the great Moguls over 
his Queen. If the accounts of this Queen are true, she must 
have been all that was beautiful in mind, as well as in person. 
It is certain that she had great influence over the Emperor and 
possessed his entire love. The Taj is built almost wholly of 
white marble, very nearly equal to that obtained from the quar- 
ries at Canard. The garden which surrounds the building is 
entered by an archway of sand-stone. This arch, as well as the 
building itself, is ornamented by inscriptions taken from the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 215 

Koran. Indeed, it is said that the whole of the Mahometans 
sacred book is written on the walls in precious stones, such as 
cornelian, lapis lazuli, agate, blood-stone, emerald and amethyst. 
Many of these stones are native, but the greater part of them 
came from distant countries, as the Shah was not content with 
the choicest of his kingdoms alone, but sent far and near for 
bright jewels to enrich the tomb of his beloved. The building 
is octagonal in shape, and from the centre rises a large dome, 
nearly round, and crowned with a crescent-tipped spire. On 
each side of this dome are two smaller domes of the same shape. 
These domes, when first seen by the traveller in the distance, 
seem like tremendous bubbles, which may break and vanish at 
any moment. On a nearer view they are so dazzling that, in the 
full sunlight, one can scarcely look at them, and this is the reason 
many travellers visit the Taj in early morning or by moonlight. 

The tombs of the Emperor and his consort are in the crypt. 
They are very simple, all the ornamentation being on the monu- 
ments, which are placed in the rotunda, directly over the tombs. 
This rotunda is not surpassed by any in the world. The floor, 
of stainless white marble and jasper, is covered with flowers 
inlaid in jewels, which are so life-like that it seems impossible 
they could have been created by any other hand than that of 
nature. Screens of marble serve as windows, and let in only a 
dim light, which enhances the beauty of the rotunda. Around 
the monuments is an octagonal screen, six feet high, with gar- 
lands of beautifully carved lillies and vines, which, in the dim 
light, look as though they were waving in a gentle breeze. 

The large dome has an echo finer, even, than that in the cele- 
brated tower of Pisa. A musical tone uttered in the crypt rises 
and floats away in one long undulation. The soft, "sad notes of 
the flute, when played by the side of the tomb, rise and fall again 
and again around the monuments. We can imagine how a cho- 
rus of human voices in a lament over the dead Queen would 
echo and re-echo. 

Though years have passed since the Emperor and his loving 
Queen were laid to rest side by side, even now precious perfumes, 



216 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

sweeter than those brought by the Peris to their caged sisters, 
are sprinkled around the tombs, and the cold gleaming of the 
marble is broken by fresh wreaths of roses and jasmines. 

Many who have wept over the sorrows of the "Light of the 
Harem," scarcely realize that she was a living person, and but 
few know that she — 

"The one whose smile shone out alone, 
Amidst a world, the only one, 
Whose light, among so many lights, 
Was like the star on starry nights 
The seaman singles from the sky, 
To steer his bark forever by" — 

is supposed to be the one to whom the Taj Mahal was erected. 

The proportions of the Taj are perfect. Bayard Taylor says 
of this structure, it is "a poem, the tablets of which are marble 
and the letters jewels." 

Some persons assert that Shah Jehan intended building on the 
opposite shore of the river the counterpart of the Taj, as his own 
resting place ; but what was allowed to love was denied to vanity, 
and the Taj stands alone in its loveliness, by the side of that clear, 
flashing stream, whose bright waters reflect its beauty and mur- 
mur again and again its story of love. 



NAMES OF WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS. 



1. What a rough man said to his son when he wished him to 
eat properly. °4^U(^^cv . 

2. A lion's house dug in the side of a hill where no water is. 31 

3. Pilgrims and flatterers have knelt low to kiss him. 'v^f^-. 

4. Makes and mends for first-class customers. ^W^t- 

5. Represents the dwellings of civilized men. ?t**~«**s. L<8.<yr. I 

6. Is a kind of linen. ^<^ttu^oL. 

7. Is worn on the head."^**^- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 217 

A name that means such fury things I can't describe their 
and stings. ^S^^vm^-. 
9. Belonging to a monastery. ■■ J ^ L ^ U ^-. 

10. Not one of the four points of the compass, but inclining 
towards one of them. .S^-m^X**^-- 

11. Is what an oyster heap is like to be. ^<^tJ^- 

12. Is a chain of hills containing a dark treasure. &<*J^U>Ic^<l~ . 

13. Always youthful, you see. But between you and me, he 
never was much of a chicken. (^<vm^o,. 

14. An American manufacturing town. §-*^-<^£- • 

15. Humpbacked but not deformed. ^^^^^/<-t/L . 

16. An internal pain. .Wttta^A. - 

17. Value of a word. Q'PesooLs)^ ^uit^ ■ 

18. A ten-footer whose name begins with fifty. ^^^o^x^^— - 

19. A brighter and smarter than the other one. fflfiLuUiZi^ • 

20. Worker in precious metals. ^<>-tol4sv*«^Ll^ . 

21. A very vital part of the body. ?^*~f^i<^- 

22. A lady's garment. c ?^^«*^tvu. 

23. A small talk and a heavy weight. ^ (krt^W*ci^ , 

24. A prefix and a disease. 

25. Comes from a pig. Vio^i^-^- 

26. A disagreeable fellow to have on one's foot. Ji«sL«sLMjx**^- 

27. A sick place of worship. 

28. A mean dog 'tis. c Z OAAA sloi^~ . 

29. An official dreaded by students of English Universities. 

30. His middle name is suggestive of an Indian or Hottentot. 

31. A manufactured metal. '"jLuAj— . 

22. A game and a male of the human species. ^^ ^±^^-^-. 

33. An answer to " Which is the greater poet, William Shake- 
speare or Martin F. Tupper ?" WZI&>1~. 

34. Meat ! what are you doing ? l3/v*^~^t ■ 

35. Is very fast indeed. tf^lAJ~~ . 
36 A barrier built by an edible. 

37. To agitate a weapon. ^^eJi^u^AA^ -. 

38. A domestic worker. ^^Uv M-t/t- - 

39. A slang exclamation. % asJ^la^-. 






218 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

■ 

40. Pack away closely, never scatter, and doing so you'll soon 

get at her. ^oaaaM-.' waucJUmj $ La^y^ 

41. A young domestic animal. Zc^-^^k- 

42. One that is more than a sandy shore. 

43. A fraction in the currency, and the prevailing fashion. ^^^ 

44. u Mama is in perfect health, my child •" and thus he named 
a poet mild. £ W ^lld^. 

45. A girl's name and a male relation. AcCcLu^^. 

46. Put an edible grain 'twixt an ant and a bee, and a much 
loved poet then you'll see. TsW**^ 1 - 

47. A common domestic animal and what it can never do.'&a^ 

48. Each living head, in time, 'tis said, will turn to him 
though he be dead. 



BLIND. 



A TALE— TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER V— (Continued.) 

"I understand enough to know what the plants need. I can 
tell by the odour whether they are wilting or are in blossom, or 
need water. They speak to me. But I cannot gather you any 
flowers, for I will scratch my hands." 

" I will do it for you," said he, and broke for her one of the 
monthly roses. She took it. " You have picked so many buds," 
she said, " but I will keep it and put it in water, then you will 
have more blossoms." 

So they walked about sadly until the mother called them to 
dinner. Clement was grieved about his father, but Marlina, who 
had formerly taken but a modest share in the conversation, 
to-day had a hundred things to tell and ask. The old man, too, 
had overcome the first effects of his conversation with his son, 
and the old, true companionship was soon re-established. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 219 

It was impossible that the next few days would not furnish an 
opportunity for the renewal of the discussion. His father 
inquired about the condition of theology in every university, and 
the conversation soon overleaped all general questions. The 
more Clement tried to evade the question, the more his father 
urged it upon him. Many a time the apprehensive looks of his 
mother helped him to keep to his resolution of avoiding an open 
acknowledgment; but if he broke off suddenly or said anything 
trifling, the painful stillness impressed his heart. Marlina, alone, 
could arouse in him the feelings of his youth. But he saw how 
she, too, had suffered, and avoided her when she was alone, for 
he knew that she would question him and he could hide nothing 
from her. It seemed as if a shadow fell over him the first time 
he saw her. Was it that childish promise to which he had 
proved unfaithful ? Was it the belief that in the difference of 
opinion which had estranged his parents from him, she, also, was 
silently on their side? 

He still felt the desire, always resistless in him, and which he 
could now no longer deny, and with which he struggled bravely. 
He was filled with his own knowledge, with the thought of his 
future, and obstinately put aside anything which might hinder 
his upward path. "I will be a traveller, and on foot," he often 
said. "I must have little to carry with me." It embarrassed 
him to think of being tied to a wife, who would demand a part 
of his life. And a blind wife, whom he would fear ever to leave ! 
Here in the village where everything had its simple plan, to which 
she had been accustomed since childhood, she was not surrounded 
by any of those difficulties which she could not escape in a city. 
So he persuaded himself that it would be doing her a wrong if 
he were to form any nearer ties with her. That his withdrawal 
might give her pain, he never thought for one instant. 

After this determination his plans were without disguise. The 
last day when he had embraced his parents, and heard that Mar- 
lina was in the garden, he left a message for her, and with beat- 
ing heart, took his leave, going through the fields and woods. 
The garden opened into one of the fields and woods. The way 



220 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

was to go through a little grated door. He made a wide bend. 
But he could not go through the field of young seed without 
looking back. He stood there in the bright sunlight, looking 
over the cottagers and houses. Behind the hedge which enclosed 
his mother's garden, he saw the slender form of the maiden. 
Her face was turned towards him, but she did not know he was 
near. His eyes were burning, and it was only with difficulty 
that he refrained from tears. He sprang eagerly over the ditches 
and back to the hedge. "Good-bye, Marlina," he said, in 
a clear voice, " I am going away, perhaps for a year." He stroked 
her forehead and hair — " Farewell." " You are going," she said. 
" I beg you, write often to your parents. It is due your mother; 
and sometimes remember me." "Certainly," said he, abstract- 
edly, and then left. 

"Clement," she called after him. He heard her, but did not 
look back. "It is well that he did not hear," she said softly to 
herself. "What have I to say to him?" 



CHAPTER VI. 

After this visit Clement did not stay any length of time with 
his parents. He always found his father harsh and intolerant, 
his mother loving but reserved towards him, Marlina quiet and 
taking no part in their conversations. He saw her but seldom. 

On a bright day in the latter part of autumn, we find Clement 
again in the room in which he, when a boy, passed the weeks of 
his convalescence. One of his friends and fellow-students has 
accompanied him. The hard work of the university is behind 
them and they are returning from a long journey, but Wolf was 
taken sick, and wished to wait awhile in this quiet village. 
Clement could not prevent it, though Wolf was the one of his 
acquaintances whom (to please his father) he would least like to 
own. In the meanwhile the stranger, contrary to expectation, 
conformed with cheerfulness and good-humour to the customs of 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 221 

the old people, and won the mother especially, through a keen 
interest which he seemed to take in household affairs. He could 
give her many a hint, and relieved one of her complaints by a 
simple remedy, for he had studied this in the apothecary shop 
of his old uncle. 

(to be continued.) 



AN IRISH IDYLL. 



We had been out all night watching the herring-fishers ; but 
as soon as the work was over, and the faint glimmering of dawn 
appeared in the east, we turned our boat's bow towards the shore, 
and pulled swiftly homewards. There lay the group of curraghs, 
still upon the scene of their labour, loaded with phosphorescent 
fish and dripping nets, and manned with crews of shivering, 
weary men. The sea, which during the night had been throb- 
bing convulsively, was calm and bright as a polished mirror, 
while the gaunt grey cliffs were faintly shadowed forth by the 
lustrous light of the moon. 

Wearied with my night's labour I lay listlessly in the stern of 
the boat, listening dreamily to the measured splash, splash, of the 
oars, and drinking in the beauty of the scene around me : the placid 
sea, the black outline of the hills and cliffs, the silently sleeping 
village of Storport. Presently, however, my ears detected another 
sound, which came faintly across the water, and mingled softly 
with the monotonous splashing of the oars and the weary washing 
of the sea. 

' Is it a mermaid singing?' I asked sleepily. ' The village 
maidens are all dreaming of their lovers at this hour, but the 
Midian Maras sing of theirs. Oh, yes, it must be a mermaid, 
for hark ! the sound is issuing from the shore yonder, and surely 
no human being ever possessed a voice half so beautiful ! ' 

To my question no one vouchsafed a reply, so I lay still half- 
sleepily and listened to the plaintive wailing of the voice, which 



222 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

every moment grew stronger. It came across the water like the 
low, sweet sound of an .ZEolian harp touched by the summer 
breeze ; and as the boat glided swiftly on, bringing it ever nearer, 
the whole scene around seemed suddenly to brighten as if from 
the touch of a magical hand. Above me sailed the moon, scat- 
tering pale vitreous light around her, and touching with her cool 
white hand the mellow thatched cabins, lying so secluded on the 
hill-side, the long stretch of shimmering sand, the fringe of foam 
upon the shingle, the peaks of the hills which stood silhouetted 
against the pale grey sky. 

A white owl passing across the boat, and almost brushing my 
cheek with its wing, aroused me at length from my torpor. The 
sound of the voice had ceased. Above my head a flock of sea- 
gulls screamed, and, as they sailed away, I heard the whistle of 
the curlew ; little puffins were floating thick as bees around us, 
wild rock-doves flew swiftly from the caverns, and beyond again 
the cormorants blackened the weed-covered rocks. The splash 
of our oars had for a moment created a commotion ; presently 
all calmed down again, and again I heard the plaintive wailing 
of the mermaid's voice. The voice, more musical than ever, 
was at length so distinct as to bring with it the words of the 
song : — 

' My Owen Bawn's hair is of thread gold spun ; 
Of gold in the shadow, of light in the sun ; 
All curled in a coolun the bright tresses are, 
They make his head radiant with beams like a star ! 

My Owen Bawn's mantle is long and is wide, 
To wrap me up safe from the storm by his side ; 
And I'd rather face snow-drift and winter wind there, 
Than be among daisies and sunshine elsewhere. 

My Owen Bawn Con is a bold fisherman, 
He spears the strong salmon in midst of the Bann, 
And, rocked in the tempest on stormy Lough Neagh, 
Draws up the red trout through the bursting of spray.' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 223 

The voice suddenly ceased, and as it did so, I saw that the 
singer was a young girl who, with her hands clasped behind her, 
and her face turned to the moonlit sky, walked slowly along the 
shore. Suddenly she paused, and while the sea kissed her bare 
feet, and the moon laid tremulous hands upon her head, began 
to sing again : 

' I have called my love, but he still sleeps on, 
And his lips are as cold as clay : 
I have kissed them o'er and o'er again— 
I have pressed his cheek with my burning brow, 

And I've watched o'er him all the day ; 
Is it then true that no more thou'lt smile 
On Moina ? 
Art thou then lost to thy Moina ? 

I once had a lamb my love gave me, 

As the mountain snow 'twas white ; 
Oh, how I loved it nobody knows ! 
I decked it each morn with the myrtle rose, 

With " forget-me-not " at night. 
My lover they slew, and they tore my lamb 

From Moina. 
They pierced the heart's core of poor Moina ! ' 

As the last words fell from her tremulous lips, and the echoes 
of the sweet voice faded far away across the sea, the boat gliding 
gently on ran her bow into the sand, and I, leaping out, came 
suddenly face to face with the loveliest vision I had ever beheld. 

( Is it a mermaid ? ' I asked myself again, for surely I thought 
no human being could be half so lovely. 

I saw a pale madonna-like face set in a wreath of golden hair, 
on which the moonlight brightened and darkened like the shadows 
on a wind-swept sea. Large, lustrous eyes which gazed earnestly 
seaward, then filled with a strange wandering far-off look as they 
turned to my face. A young girl, clad in a peasant's dress, with 
her bare feet washed reverently by the sighing sea ; her half- 
parted lips kissed by the breeze which travelled slowly shoreward ; 
her cheeks and neck were pale as alabaster, so were the little hands 
which were still clasped half nervously behind her; and as she 



224 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

stood, with her eyes wandering restlessly first to my face, then to 
the dim line of the horizon, the moon, brightening with sudden 
splendour, wrapt her from head to foot in a mantle of shimmer- 
ing snow. 

For a moment she stood gazing with a peculiar far-away look 
into my face ; then with a sigh she turned away, and with her face 
still turned oceanward, her hands still clasped behind her, wan- 
dered slowly along the moonlit sands. 

As she went, fading like a spirit amid the shadows, I heard 
again the low sweet sound of the plaintive voice which had come 
to me across the ocean, but soon it grew fainter and fainter until 
only the echoes were heard. 

I turned to my boatman, who now stood waiting for me to 
depart. 

'Well, Shawn, is it a mermaid ?' I asked, smiling. 

He gravely shook his head. 

' No, yer honour ; 'tis only a poor Colleen wid a broken heart ! ' 

I turned and looked questioningly at him, but he was gazing 
at the spot whence the figure of the girl had disappeared. 

'God Almighty, risht the dead ! ' he said, reverently raising 
his hat, 'but him that brought such luck to Norah O'Connell 
deserved His curse, God knows ! ' 

This incident, coupled with the strange manner of my man, 
interested me, and I began to question him as to the story of the 
girl whose lovely face was still vividly before me. But for some 
reason or other he seemed to shun the subject, so for a time I too 
held my peace. But as soon as I found myself comfortably seated 
in the cosy parlour of the lodge, with a bright turf fire blazing 
before me and hot punch steaming on the table at my side, I 
summoned my henchman to my presence. 

' Now, Shawn,' I said, holding forth a steaming goblet which 
made his eyes sparkle like two stars, ' close the door, draw your 
chair up to the fire, drink off this, and tell me the story of the 
lovely Colleen whom we saw to-night.' 

' Would yer honour really like to hear ? ' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 225 

'I would; it will give me something to dream about, and 
prevent me from thinking too much of her beautiful face.' 

Shawn smiled gravely. 

' Yer honour thinks her pretty ? Well, then, ye'll believe me 
when I tell ye that if ye was to search the country at the present 
moment ye couldn't find a Colleen to match Norah O'Connell. 
When she was born the neighbours thought she must be a fairy 
child, she was so pretty and small and white; and when she got 
older, there wasn't a boy in Storport but would lay down his life 
for her. Boys wid fortunes and boys wiclout fortunes tried to 
get her; and, begging yer honour's pardon, I went myself in wid 
the rest. But it went one way wid us all: Norah just smiled 
and said she did not want to marry. But one day, two years ago 
now come this Serapht, that lazy shaugrhaun Miles Doughty 
(God rest his soul !) came over from Ballygally, and going straight 
to Norah, widout making up any match at all, asked her to marry 
him.' 

'Well?' 

1 Well, yer honour, this time Norah brightened up, and though 
she knew well enough that Miles was a dirty blackguard widout 
a penny in the world — though the old people said no, and there 
was plenty fortunes in Storport waitin' on her — she just went 
against everyone of them and said she must marry Miles. The 
old people pulled against her at first, but at last Norah, with her 
smiles and pretty ways, won over Father Tom — who won over 
the old people, till at last they said that if Miles would go for a 
while to the black pits of Pennsylvania and earn the money and 
buy a house and a bit of land, he should marry her.' 

He paused, and for a time there was silence. Shawn looked 
thoughtfully into the fire; I lay back in my easy-chair and care- 
lessly watched the smoke which curled from my cigar, and as I 
did so I seemed to hear again the wildly plaintive voice of the 
girl as I had heard it before that night : 

I have called my love, but he still sleeps on. 
And his lips are as cold as clay : 



226 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

and as the words of the song passed through my mind, they 
seemed to tell me the sequel of the story. 

' Another case of disastrous true love/ I said, turning to Shawn ; 
and when he looked puzzled I added, ' He died, and she is mourn- 
ing him? ' 

' Yes, yer honour, he died ; but if that was all he did, we 
would forgive him. What broke the poor Colleen's heart was 
that he should forget her when he got to the strange land, and 
marry another Colleen at the time he should have married her ; 
after that, it was but right that he should die.' 
'Did he write and tell her he was married?' 
'Write ? devil the bit, not to tell he was dead neither. Here 
was the poor Colleen watching and waiting for him, for two 
whole years, and wondering what could keep him ; but a few 
months ago Owen Macgrath, a boy who had gone away from the 
village long ago on account of Norah refusing to marry him, 
came back again and told Norah that Miles was dead, and asked 
her to marry him. He had made lots of money, and was ready 
to take a house and a bit of land and to buy up cattle if she 
would but say the word to him.' 
'Well?' 

'Well, yer honour, Norah first shook her head and said that 
now Miles was dead 'twas as well for her to die too. At this 
Owen spoke out and asked where was the use of grieving so, 
since for many months before his death Miles had been a married 
man ! Well, when Owen said this, Norah never spoke a single 
word, but her teeth set, and her lips and face went white and 
cold as clay, and ever since that day she has been so strange in 
her ways that some think she's not right at all. On moonlight 
nights she creeps out of the house and walks by the sea singing 
them strange old songs, then she looks out as if expecting him 
to come to her — and right or wrong, she'll never look at another 
man !' 

As Shawn finished, the hall clock chimed five; the last spark 
faded from my cigar ; the turf fell low in the grate : so I went 
to bed to think over the story alone. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 227 

During the three days which followed this midnight adven- 
ture, Storport was visited by a deluge of rain, but on the fourth 
morning I looked from my window to find the earth basking in 
summer sunshine. The sky was a vault of throbbing blue, 
flecked here and there with waves of summer cloud, the stretches 
of sand grew golden in the sun-rays, while the saturated hills 
were bright as if from the smiling of the sky. The sight revivi- 
fied me, and as soon as my breakfast was over, I whistled up my 
dogs and strolled out into the air. 

How bright and beautiful everything looked, after the heavy 
rain ! The ground was spongy to the tread ; the dew still lay 
heavily upon the heather and long grass ; but the sun seemed to 
be sucking up the moisture from the bog. Everybody seemed 
to be out that day ; and most people were busy. Old men drove 
heavily laden donkeys along the muddy road ; young girls 
carried their creels of turf across the bog; and by the roadside, 
close to where I stood, the turf-cutters were busy. 

I stood for a while and watched them at their work, and when 
I turned to go, I saw for the first time that I had not been alone. 
Not many yards from me stood a figure watching the turf-cut- 
ters too. 

A young man dressed like a grotesque figure for a pantomime ; 
with high boots, felt hat cocked rakishly over one eye, and a vest 
composed of all the colours of the rainbow. His big brown 
fingers were profusely bedecked with brass and steel rings, a 
massive brass chain swung from his waistcoat, and an equally 
showy pin adorned the scarf at his throat. When the turf-cut- 
ters, pausing suddenly in their work, gazed at him with wonder 
in their eyes, he gave a peculiar smile and asked with a strong 
Yankee accent if they could tell him where one Norah O'Con- 
nell lived : he was a stranger here, and brought her news from 
the States ! In a moment a dozen fingers were outstretched to 
point him on, and the stranger, again smiling strangely to him- 
self, swaggered away. 

I stood for a moment and watched him go, then I too sauntered 
on. I turned off from the road, crossed the bog, and made 
direct for the sea-shore. 



228 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

I had been walking there for some quarter of an hour, when 
suddenly a huge shadow was flung across my path, and looking 
up I again beheld the stranger. His hat was pushed back now, 
and I saw for the first time his face was handsome. His cheeks 
were bronzed and weather-beaten, but his features were finely 
formed, and on his head clustered a mass of curling chestnut 
hair. He was flushed as if with excitement ; he cast me a hur- 
ried glance and disappeared. 

Five minutes after, as I still stood wondering at the strange 
behaviour of the man, my ears were greeted with a shriek which 
pierced to my very heart. Running in the direction whence the 
sound proceeded, I reached the top of a neighbouring sand-hill, 
and gazing into the valley below me I again beheld the stranger. 
This time his head was bare — his arms were outstretched, and he 
held upon his breast the half-fainting form of a lovely girl 
whom I had last beheld in the moonlight. While I stood hesi- 
tating as to the utility of descending, I saw the girl gently with- 
draw herself from his arms, then, clasping her hands around his 
neck, fall sobbing on his breast. 

'Well, Shawn, what's the news?' I asked that night when 
Shawn rushed excitedly into my room. For a time he could tell 
me nothing, but by dint of a few well-applied questions I soon 
extracted from him the whole story. It amounted to this : that 
after working for two years like a galley-slave in the black pits 
of Pennsylvania, with nothing but the thought of Norah to help 
him on, Miles Doughty found himself with enough money to 
warrant his coming home; that he was about to return to Stor- 
port, when unfortunately, the day before his intended departure, 
a shaft in the coal-pit fell upon him and he was left for dead ; 
that for many months he lay ill, but as soon as he was fit to 
travel he started for home. Arrived in Storport, he was astonished 
to find that no one knew him, and he was about to pass himself 
off as a friend of his own, when the news of his reported death 
and Norah's sorrow so shocked him that he determined to make 
himself known at once. 

' And God help the villain that told her he was married,' con- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 229 

eluded Shawn, ' for he swears he'll kill him as soon as Norah — 
God bless her ! — comes out o' the fever that she's in to-night.' 

Just three months after that night, I found myself 'sitting in 
the hut where Norah O'Connell dwelt. The cabin was illumi- 
nated so brightly that it looked like a spot of fire upon the bog; 
the rooms in the house were crowded ; and without, dark figures 
gathered as thick as bees in swarming-time. Miles Doughty, 
clad rather less gaudily than when I first beheld him, moved 
amidst the throng with bottle and glass, pausing now again to 
look affectionately at Norah, who, decorated with her bridal 
flowers, was dancing with one of the straw men who had come 
to do honour to her marriage feast. When the dance was ended 
she came over and stood beside me. 

' Norah,' I whispered, ' do you remember that night when I 
heard you singing songs upon the sands ? ' 

Her face flashed brightly upon me, then it grew grave, — then 
her eyes filled with tears. 

' My dear,' I added, 'I never meant to pain you. I only want 
you to sing a sequel to those songs to-night!' 

She laughed lightly, then she spoke rapidly in Irish, and 
merrily sang the well-known lines : — 

' Oli, the marriage, the marriage, 

With love and mo bouchal for me : 
The ladies that ride in a carriage 
Might envy my marriage to me.' 

Then she was laughingly carried off to join in another dance. 

I joined in the fun till midnight ; then, though the merriment 
was still at its height, I quietly left the house and hastened home. 
As I left the cabin I stumbled across a figure which was hiding 
behind a turf-stack. By the light of my burning turf I recognised 
the features of Owen Macgrath. He slunk away when he saw 
me, and never since that night has he been seen in Storport. 



ST. MAET'S MUSE: 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
THE LADY PRINCIPAL. 

Subscription. — One copy, per year, $1.00. 

JgigfCorrespondence solicited. 

Advertisements inserted at lowest rates. 

Copies of the Muse can be had at the bookstore of L. Branson. 

Subscribers not receiving a copy by the 20th of the month are requested to 
notify us at once. The Muse will be issued monthly during term time, or nine 
numbers a year, and advertisers will be given the space in ten numbers as a 
year's contract. All matters on business should be addressed to the Muse, St. 
Mary's School, Kaleigh, N. C. 



The following standard magazines will be furnished with the Muse for one 
year at the rates given below : — Aldine, price $6, with Muse $6 ; American 
Art Review, price $12, with Muse $12 ; American Journal of Science and Art, 
price $6, with Muse $6 ; Atlantic Monthly, price $4, with Muse $4 ; Blackwood's 
Monthly, price $4, with Muse $4 ; Harper's Magazine, price $4, with Muse $4 ; 
Harper's Weekly, price $4, with Muse $4 ; Harper's Bazar, price $4, with Muse 
$4 ; Bemorest's Fashion, price $3, with Muse $3. Scribner's Monthly, price $4, 
with Muse $4 ; The Oxonian, price $1, with Muse $1.25. And any publica- 
tion will be furnished with the Muse at reduced rates. 



Miss Blume certainly enjoys her down town scholars, though 
she has to be very for-beer-ing with Mr. Hardin at times. 

Mrs. Kemp Battle, of Chapel Hill, spent part of a day 
with us last week. We are pleased to see her looking well. 

Another nice, new upright piano for the Department of 
Music has just arrived, and still another is coming in a few days. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 231 

Among new subscribers are Mrs. Chisman (Gussie Anderson) 
and Mamie F. Lewis, who write with loving remembrance of 

St. Mary's. 

The collection of hyacinths sent by a friend in Salisbury to 
Miss Sadie Smedes, have been unanimously voted the hand- 
somest ever seen here. 

Our "arkites " will be glad to hear from Louise Allston, 
who is studying music at the Peabody Institute, in Baltimore. 
Do not forget our "contract," Louise ! 

The receipt of the following papers is acknowledged : 
Oxonian, Church Herald, The People's Vindicator, The Musical 
Record, The South- Atlantic, Scribner's Monthly. 

Miss Norwood is storing away square after square of goodie's 
for Commencement ; occasional glimpses of choice landscapes and 
beautiful faces give us a foretaste of the treat we are to have in 
June. 

And Hattie Morgan of old "Quintette" times has been 
with us again. She and Mrs. Morgan paid us a visit, too short, 
but most welcome, on their way South. Our "Lily of Alabama" 
is ever fair and bright. 

With the return of sunshine our young invalids are all out 
again, looking bright and cheery. Bad colds and measles have 
fled with the wintry weather and left us to the enjoyment of 
spring time and flowers. 

We are sorry to record the death of Mrs. Lizzie Anderson, 

the mother of our friend Mrs. Joanna Hall. She died in this 

city on 16th of March. Mrs. Hall has the sympathy of many 
friends at St. Mary's. 

We acknowledge the receipt of two dollars for the Muse 
from Miss Annie Hawkins. Always considerate of the Muse's 
needs, she does not forget her old friends, neither does the Muse 
forget the sweet influence of her presence. 



232 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Professor — sternly to young lady who persists in playing 
too many notes — "Now, can't you see that those notes are tied?' 
Young lady — slightly confused but with an injured air — "A-h 
yes — but I think they sound a heap better untied." 

Miss Annie Sargent, who has been quite sick for the past 
two weeks, is convalescing rapidly, and will soon join the happy 
throng of aspirants for musical fame who make the early hours 
hideous with shouts of woe, because the Professor is such an 
early riser. 

We return thanks to our Oxford contemporary for a very 
handsome compliment paid to the Muse in the Oxonian of Jan- 
uary 29th. We feel very proud of the praise which our little 
Muse wins from friends, old and new, and we hope long to 
deserve their cheery words of encouragement. 

Speaking of travelling, our party for Europe are still busy 
discussing and perfecting their plans. Guide books have taken 
the place of fashion magazines, while a brisk correspondence is 
kept up with the agents of steamship companies. We are sure 
our energetic Director will arrange everything all right before 
June, and we do not think the hearts of the young ladies will 
fail. 

Lovers of good music and musical goods will find a fine 
stock of the former, and one of the best and most varied collections 
of the latter, ever seen in Raleigh, at Mr. F. W. Walter's store, 
No. 3 Fayetteville street. We heartily commend Mr. Walter 
to the notice of our patrons, as an educated musican and a 
thoroughly reliable dealer in pianos, organs and sheet music at 
the lowest prices. 

The reception given at St. Mary's to the members of the 
Legislature was largely attended, and very pleasant indeed. We 
think our honorable legislators enjoyed laying aside the cares of 
State for a time, while they devoted themselves very successfully 
to the task of entertaining the young ladies. Among the lady 
guests on the occasion we were glad to welcome the Misses 
Higgs, who had long promised us a visit. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 233 

The Muse returns thanks to the agents, Messrs. Oelrichs & 
Co., of the North German Lloyds Line to Bremen, for their 
courtesy, and congratulates the teachers of the Music Depart- 
ment in having secured passage on the fine ship Neckar. This 
line has established for itself an enviable reputation for its 
cuisine, and the efforts of its officers to make the voyage pleasur- 
able is in marked contrast to that of several other lines. 

It is with regret that we come before our readers with an 
apology for the lateness of our appearance, nothing but dire 
necessity could induce us to have allowed any opportunity for 
such a mortifying occurrence. Our business manager was away 
and our printer has taken a dull time to have his annual sick- 
ness, at which he was quite as pains-taking as in the work of 
the Muse. We are sorry too, to announce Mrs. Meares' indispo- 
sition, and beg indulgence of our readers in the loss of such a 
happy wielder of the quill. 

The visits of our Bishop are always welcome and delight- 
ful, but his last lecture on the Scandinavian country was surely 
one of the most interesting we have ever had, even from him. 
He described a visit to Sweden and Norway, and carried us with 
him in the quaint "carioles" over the blue mountains and down 
by the crystal waters of the fjords, and through scenery lighted 
by the strange light of a midnight sun. In Stockholm he 
witnessed a royal wedding, and we were surprised to hear him 
say that he met many people in society in Stockholm, who spoke 
the English language fluently. 

An itinerant wandered into the room of one of the unmar- [ 
ried members of the Faculty of St. Mary's, with a collossal arti- \ 
ficial bouquet carefully preserved under glass, which she offered 
for sale at the moderate price of eight dollars. After quite a 
lengthy conversation, in which each tried to persuade the other ) 
that the like of this bouquet never had existed before and never 
would again, the owner turning to a fair young maiden who was 
present, and looking sweetly at the unmarried gent, said: "Now 



234 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

buy it for your sweet little wife to look at" ! ! ! Instant rigidity 
on the part of the young miss, and great confusion on the part 
of the young gent. Tableaux. 

We greet this month a new friend from our North Carolina 
city by the sea. We mean Home and Abroad, a monthly mag- 
azine, published at Wilmington, North Carolina. The first 
number is before us, and if all its readers are as well pleased as 
we are with its contents, the enterprise will never want for 
friends. The aim of the publishers is to present a purely liter- 
ary periodical which shall steer clear of the sensational fiction of 
our day, without confining itself to the discussion of the weighty 
subjects which are handled by the reviews. It is a home enter- 
prise, and we trust will prove very valuable in developing and 
encouraging home talent. We tender our best wishes for a long 
and successful career. 

We have before us Prof. dePotter's little programme for a 
summer tour in Europe. Among other things he says : "Ar- 
rangements have been made with both the State and National 
Lines, neither of which have ever lost a vessel, and the latter of 
which is especially noted for the perfect order and discipline on 
board." We beg to ask the Professor about the State of Louisi- 
ana and the State of Georgia, both of which, we think, have 
been lost within the last three years. The "order and discipline" 
on the National Line we failed to notice when the disgraceful 
collision between the Italy and Canada occurred off Bedloe's 
Island. We were on the Italy at the time, and could not be 
induced again to take passage on a National Line steamer. 
However, perhaps Prof. dePotter has been misinformed in these 
matters, and we certainly trust he is more conversant with the 
facts of European travel. He is spoken of as a most accom- 
plished gentleman by several friends of the Muse, and one who 
uses every effort to make the time pleasant and profitable to his 
party. We wish him bon voyage. 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 235 

The Art Interchange finds its way to our sanctum with com- 
mendable promptness, and brings us some news from New York 
studios, together with numberless useful hints about beautifying 
our homes and improving ourselves in "decorative art." Who 
would be so lost to all ideas of progress as to be entirely want- 
ing in sympathy with this great crusade against barrenness and 
ugliness of which we hear so much ? Can we live much longer 
without taking to ourselves "portieres" and curtains which shall 
be a lesson and a marvel to all beholders ? We believe not. But 
when the full tide of enthusiasm in these matters sweeps down 
upon us, we do hope that some benevolent genius will interfere 
in our behalf and kindly insert sonje modified form of the 
present styles. When we think of the short and sunny winters 
of our climate, we certainly feel somewhat dismayed at the 
thought of giving up the traditional airiness of our apartments 
and finding o'urselves defended on all sides by heavy hangings of 
"art embroidery." We are afraid we would rather look out on 
the interlacing boughs of tree-tops against the sky than to study 
the tracing of "conventional trees" in gold color on an olive 
green ground, or lambrequins which display a wealth of sun- 
flowers on blue satin. But perhaps we shall become more 
aesthetic in our ideas. Who can tell ? 



HORNER SCHOOL, 

OXFORD, N. C. 

A CLASSICAL, MATHEMATICAL, SCIENTIFIC AND ENGLISH SCHOOL, WITH 
MILITARY ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE. 



PRINCIPALS : 
JAMKS He HORNER, A. M. 
JEROME C. HORNER, A. M. 



ASSISTANT INSTEUCTORS : 
J. P. PAISLEY, A. B., Latin, Greek, Mathematics, and English 

Branches. 
TH. V. JASMUND, Ph. D., French, German, Geography, and 

History. 



The School has been under its present management for THIRTY YEARS ; 
and in this sense, it is, we believe, the OLDEST SCHOOL in the South. 

Long experience and watchful observation have enabled us to make many 
improvements in our methods of instruction and discipline ; and the fact that 
a large proportion of our boys have been able to compete successfully for the 
highest honors in the various Colleges and Universities of the country, fur- 
nishes satisfactory evidence of the excellence of our system. 



No expense or pains will be spared to maintain the high reputation of the 

HORNER SCHOOL 

and to make it complete in all the requirements of a first-rate preparatory 
and finishing Academy. None but well-qualified Assistant Instructors will be 
employed ; and none but honorable and studious boys will be retained in the 
School. 

The location is retired, but not so remote from the town as to lose the health- 
ful influence of its refined society. Students live in the family of the Princi- 
pals ; and their conduct out of school and in school is strictly supervised and 
controlled. The standard of Scholarship and of gentlemanly deportment is 
high. 

The course of study is complete. The Text-Books are up to the latest ad- 
vancements in every department ; and the best educational advantages in all 
the appointments of the School are provided. The session is divided into 
two terms of twenty weeks each, with only one day's interval. 

The first term of the scholastic year begins the third Monday in August; 
the second, the first Tuesday in January. 

The charge for board and tuition is S100 for each session, or §200 for the 
whole scholastic year, payable at the beginning of each term. 

For further particulars apply to 



JEROME C. HORNER, 

OXFORD, N. G. 



ST. MAET'S MUSE. 



Vol. III. Raleigh, N. C, April, 1881. No. 8. 



VICTUALS AND BRINK. 



One cold, winter evening, Mother Goose was sitting by her 
cosey hearth. Her little room was the picture of comfort. The 
fire-light glowed in the polished andirons, and gave an added 
lustre to the brass balls and knobs on the quaint clock in the 
corner, the pride of the dear old lady's heart. The neat shelves 
of the well-filled cupboard were garnished with fanciful lambre- 
quins of white paper, and covered with rows of cups and plates 
which gleamed in the dancing light. But to-night the eyes of 
Mother Goose looked not upon those evidences of her care and 
industry, which were wont to rouse her housewifely pride. Not 
even the endearments of her favorite tabby cat had power to rouse 
her from her thoughtfulness. Silent and pensive she sat, gazing 
into the fire. Mother Goose had made a visit that evening to 
some neighbors, whose arrival had created quite a sensation in 
the quiet little village. She was invited into a room, the furni- 
ture and ornaments of which were magnificent to her simple 
notions, and the lady who rose languidly from her chair on the 
entrance of Mother Goose, seemed to her, a very fine lady, 
indeed. But on entering into conversation with her hostess, 
Mother Goose was much surprised to find that she could 
hit on no topic which seemed agreeable. The weather was 
too cold ; the village too quiet; she found the house inconve- 
nient ; and the cook did not understand her business; in short, for 
this lady, the machinery of things in general seemed out of 
order. Mother Goose was puzzled. Her own modest little 
home and the simple pleasures of her quiet life had always been 



240 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

sufficient for her happiness ; but this woman, surrounded by all the 
luxuries that money could buy, took no pleasure in them, and 
was discontented still. 

Mother Goose, her visit over, came home much perplexed, and 
having laid aside her bonnet and shawl, locked up the house 
and put things to rights for the night, she sat down by the fire 
to think the matter over. Soon the mob-cap began to sway 
slowly to and fro, coming to a full stop as the head beneath it 
settled gently against the back of the chair ; while the fire-light 
was reflected only in the steel rimmed spectacles, and no longer 
in the bright, black eyes behind them. 

Suddenly Mother Goose found herself the centre of a crowd 
of strange looking people, who seemed to have made themselves 
quite at home in her neat little room. Before her, leaning on 
a broomstick, stood a tiny old woman whose short, black gown 
scarcely touched the large, shining buckles which adorned her 
shoes. A scarlet blanket was thrown over her shoulders ; her 
sharp, bright eyes looked out weirdly from beneath black, bushy 
brows, while her long, gray hair, under a high peaked cap, stood 
out in every direction around her wrinkled face. In a corner of 
the fire-place sat a fat, small boy, complacently eating plum 
pudding out of a large, yellow bowl. Standing near him was 
another boy, with merry blue eyes and bright curies, peeping 
through a torn straw hat. He was dressed in a suit of blue, and 
a bugle was slung around his neck. At his side, leaning on a 
crooke, and looking coquettishly at him, was the prettiest little 
shepherdess ever seen. Not far from these two, a wiry boy had 
set the tall, brass candlestick on the floor, and was looking doubt- 
fully at it, as if measuring its height, while near him stood a lad 
with a shepherd's pipe in his hand, upon which he seemed about 
to play a signal for the wiry boy to jump. All these, and some 
others, were engaged in an earnest discussion of the very same 
subject upon which Mother Goose had just been thinking so 
deeply. The old woman with the broom, held in her hand a 
book, which Mother Goose at once recognized, and now began to 
read, in a high, cracked voice, the following lines : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 241 

"There once was a woman, 
And what do you think ? 
She lived upon nothing 
But victuals and drink. 
Victuals and drink 
Were the chief of her diet, 
But yet this old woman 
Could never keep quiet." 

"And why," said the reader, closing the book and turning to 
her audience, "could not this woman keep quiet ? Why was she 
discontented ?" For a moment there was silence. Then the fat 
boy, pulling out a plum from his pudding, and looking at it with 
the air of an epicure, remarked, that he saw no earthly reason 
why the woman could not keep quiet, as it seemed she had enough 
to eat. A pale, nervous looking little person, with light, gray eyes, 
and wiry frizzes, was sitting on a low stool by Mother Goose's 
side. At these words of the fat boy she said, peering timidly 
into the shadows, and nervously drawing her skirts close around 
her, "Perhaps it was because she was afraid of spiders ; I have 
never recovered from the terrible fright a big, black one once 
gave me, when I was quietly enjoying my curds and whey." 
The fat boy gave a scornful grunt and answered : "Of course 
she could not be quiet if she was foolish enough to be looking 
out for spiders all the time. There's one over your head now!" 
Little Miss Muflfet screamed, anol clung to Mother Goose. 
Scarcely a foot from the horrified frizzes a diminutive spider was 
slowly letting himself down by an invisible cord. The spider 
seeing the commotion he had caused, beat a hasty retreat. 
When Miss MufFet had somewhat recovered from her fright, the 
subject of debate was resumed. "I think it is easy enough to 
guess," said the boy with the pipe, "why she was not satisfied. 
Women always have to stay at home, and perhaps this woman 
was like me, and wanted to see the world. Why, the only tune 
I can play is 'over the hills and far away.' " "If I had a home, 
I should be glad enough to stay there," said a pale little 
boy, who had been leaning unnoticed against the chimney 
corner; "I think she was not satisfied because she could not 
get the kind of victuals and drink that she wanted. When I 



242 ST. MARY 'S MUSE. 

sing for my supper I always expect to get white bread and 
butter, but people sometimes give me brown bread, sometimes 
potatoes, and often nothing at all." "You ought to be thankful 
for what you can get," said the fat boy. "Expect white bread, 
indeed!" and with a look severely virtuous^ he returned to his 
pudding." "Surely the poor woman hadn't any sheep to look 
after," said the little shepherdess. "Though if she had," she 
added, sighing, "they might break her heart by losing all their 
beautiful, long tails, as mine did." "You are wrong, all of you," 
spoke she of the broom and blanket. "Why was the woman 
restless? She had an exalted soul, a soul akin to mine, which 
longs to do great things." "A woman's business," said the boy 
of the pudding, "is to make pies for us." The sharp eyes gave 
him a withering look, and their owner went on: "How exalted is 
my sphere ! I scorn the petty cares of earth, I mount above the 
moon and aspire to clear from cobwebs the four corners of the 
heavens." Here the jumping boy, looking at her with admiring 
awe, put the candlestick back on the table, but the others did not 
seem profoundly impressed with the high aspirations of the little 
old woman. Indeed, the shepherdess appeared rather frightened 
by her vehemence, but she was re-assured when Little 'Boy Blue 
whispered, "We find the skies bright enough, without any sweep- 
ing ; don't we, dear ?" Bo' Peep gave him a sympathetic glance, 
and was about to reply, when the door opened, and she turned with 
a joyful exclamation to meet a fairy-like figure that came danc- 
ing in. The new comer was a tiny maiden, whose long, bright 
tresses floated in golden waves over her gauzy robe of green ; her 
head was crowned with a cap of green and gold, whose plumes 
rested lightly upon the bright locks which fell about her fair 
little face. "Oh ! Daffy Down Dilly, my darling, when did you 
come into town ?" cried little Bo' Peep, joyfully embracing her 
friend. 

"Just now ; for I heard of this gathering, dear, 

And what the good people were saying in here ; 

So all in a minute, I put on my gown, 

And hurried as fast as I could into town," 

sang the little maid. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 243 

"Why, how did you know where I was/' asked Bo' Peep, 
aud who told you what we were talking about?" 

"Who told me ? O, a little bird, 
A chimney swallow, who had heard 
What you were talking of in here : 
He told me, dear ;" 

and springing lightly into a chair she perched herself upon its back, 
resting one hand on Bo' Peep's shoulder to steady herself, and 
with the other pushing back her hair. Just then a fresh, sweet 
voice cried, "This way, dear, don't fall over the chair," and all 
eyes were turned upon the new comers, who had entered, no one 
knew how. One of them was a bonny little lassie, with smooth, 
brown braids fastened neatly back from her bright, open face, 
and thoughtful eyes that looked affectionately at the sister she 
was leading by the hand. This was a lovely child, a little taller 
than her guide, and with bright curies shading a pure, tender 
face. But one of her radiant eyes was closed, and she could not 
safely leave her sister's guiding hand. They were kindly greeted 
by Mother Goose, who seemed to know them very well. When 
they were comfortably seated by the fire, the little brown-eyed 
maiden, whose name was Common Sense, said : "Perhaps you are 
surprised, dear Mother Goose, at seeing me here. I came because 
my little sister whispered to me something of what was going 
on ; I do not know what I should do without her, she hears and 
sees so many things that I do not." "But I cannot find the way 
alone along the rough roads, over which we often pass, nor see 
the stepping-stones in the brooks we have to cross, so you help 
me too," said Imagination, the little sister. 

The new arrivals had diverted the attention of the company 
from the subject of discussion ; it was now recalled by the old 
woman with the broom, who was much aggrieved by the general 
lack of sympathy with her lofty views. "Yoifdo not appreciate 
thoughts like mine," she cried ; "you think that a woman should 
stay at home, satisfied with its trivial employments, and" — "But 
don't you think, good mother," said Common Sense, "that sweep- 
ing the cobwebs from the sky is a little more than one woman can 



&J 



244 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

do?" The old woman looked angrily at her, but said nothing 
and Common Sense went on : ''Perhaps if she looked around 
her she would find some cobwebs beneath the sky, that needed 
sweeping away ; and I think," she said musingly, "that if she 
had a little sister to love and take care of, she would be much 
happier." "Perhaps she had too many children to take care of, 
and didn't know what to do with them all," broke in a sharp voice 
from, a little old woman, whom strangely enough, no one had 
noticed before. She was standing by an enormous wooden shoe, 
whose capacity for holding children seemed limitless. Children 
of every age, shape and size, tall children and short, fat 
children and lean, children with blue eyes, black eyes, green eyes, 
swarmed in and around their singular dwelling, and when the 
astonished lookers-on were fain to believe that there could be no 
more, re-info rcements of children crowded up from the seemingly 
bottomless depths of the old shoe. The poor, bewildered mother 
stood with a whip in one hand and a bowl of broth in the other, 
striving to satisfy her hungry brood, and induce them to go 
quietly to bed. This desirable object at last accomplished, she 
joined the group around the fire, saying, "Do you think a woman 
in my place could be quiet long ?" "Bright little Common Sense, 
in spite of her sympathy, broke into a merry laugh, in which 
every one, even the mother, joined. Then Imagination said, 
"It is true that you hardly know what to do with them, but 
don't you think you would know still less how to do without 
them ?" "Well, there is something in that," she answered. 
"Now, dear Mother Goose," said Bo' Peep, "all of us have tried 
to give a reason why the woin.an couldn't keep quiet, will you tell 
us what you think ?" "My dear," answered the old lady slowly 
and thoughtfully, "yours are all good reasons, but the best that 
I can think of is this : She lived upon nothing but victuals and 
drink, nothing but victuals and drink." No one spoke for a 
little while, then Common Sense said, "Yes, good mother, and 
although none of us have all we wish for, our lives need never 
be so empty that we "live upon nothing but victuals and 
drink." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 245 



HARTZ MOUNTAINS. 



The Hartz Mountains are in the northern part of Germany. 
So many stories have been written about fairies and goblins living 
among them, that at mention of their name, the mind of the 
German fills with strange visions of the shadowy hunter, and to 
us it seems that they may be a mere creation of the imagination. 

In the valley of these very mountains lived Hans and Ursula 
in their little cottage; it was sheltered by the broad branches of 
a century-old oak, while a noisy cataract came dashing over the 
rocks close by. Hans' cattle grazed upon the luscious herbs that 
grew along the banks of this stream, and his goat-pen was shel- 
tered by an overhanging beech. 

At first Hans and Ursula were very happy in their pleasant 
home. God had early blessed them with a little son, whom they 
loved with all their hearts; but the cold winds of his third win- 
ter soon chilled the wee frame, and they were obliged to watch 
his little lamp of life die out. 

After that Hans no longer went singing to his work, but often 
stopped to brush away the tears which would come; Ursula 
would sit for hours watching the flowers she had planted on her 
little son's grave, then, with eyes full of tears, she would look 
up to heaven, crying "mein Heinrich! mein Heinrich !" 

At last God sent a smiling little stranger to cheer them. Their 
Bertha, as they called the baby, was a perfect beauty, with her 
black eyes, and brow whiter than alabaster. There was an 
angelic look in her sweet face that sometimes puzzled her parents, 
and in their prayers they would ask God if He had sent them an 
angel. The child's mind was filled with legends of fairies and 
goblins, and she often wandered into the woods to look for 
them. 

One Christmas-eve the little family were all cosily gathered 
around the glowing fire; Hans on one side smoking his pipe, 
Ursula sitting opposite, busy with her knitting, while from her 
stool between them, Bertha gazed pensively at the falling embers. 



246 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Hans walked to the window. " How beautiful ! " he cried, look- 
ing out into the clear, frosty night, "why, the stars seem almost 
trying to outshine each other; the fairies must be having a fine 
time on the mountains." 

Bertha asked him to tell her about them, so he repeated to her 
story after story, and told her about their queen with her crown 
of frozen dew-drops and diamond chariot. Then they sang their 
evening hymn, but Bertha's voice was scarcely heard, for her 
thoughts were still with the fairies. 

The next evening a little figure wandered off in the direction 
of the mountains, leaving small foot-prints in the snow; it was 
Bertha in search of the fairies. She was getting very cold and 
tired, but struggled on in hope of finding them. At last she 
heard merry voices. The very snow from under her feet seemed 
calling "Bertha, Bertha," as overcome by cold and fatigue, she 
sank into a snow-drift, and the little flakes which were falling 
fast, covered her. She no longer heard the voices, for she had 
gone to heaven. In the morning her parents found her body, 
beautiful as in life. 

They dug her grave by the side of her brother's, and every 
Christmas the shadowy hunter, who had often watched the little 
maid in her walks and had grown fond of her, comes and plants 
a crocus at her head. 



WATER 



Water in all its forms is beautiful, whether dashing against 
the rocks, heaving in foaming billows, or softly murmuring, as 
gently o'er a pebbly bed it winds its way through some green 
and shady dell. 

It covers three-fourths of the earth's surface, and composes, 
perhaps, four-fifths of our flesh. It is one of the chief agents 
in the manifold workshops, in which and by which the earth has 
been made a habitation fit for man. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 247 

Circulating below the surface of the earth and passing under 
the mountains, it runs among the hills and down through the 
valleys, in search of food for the creatures that live in the sea. 
In rivers and in rains it gathers up nourishment for the insects 
that wait upon it. It carries off from the land whatever of solid 
matter the sea in its economy requires. It takes from the soil 
nutriment for the plants, and carries off their refuse. 

Water set in motion by the sun. in a remote age helped to form 
coals, and then stored them away beneath the washings from the 
hills, for our present and future use. We see its traces in the 
marl beds, the gravel pits, and the sand banks. Boulders tell of 
its action, and the rocks bear record of its force. 

The sea conch makes its shell, the great whales and all the 
fishes form their bones, the pearl oysters their jewels, and the 
madrepores their evergreen islands, from the materials collected 
by the rains and rivers, and thus poured into the sea. 

The bottom of the sea, that realm over which water has com- 
plete control, reminds us of our childhood's dreams of fairy land. 
It presents itself before us diversified with hill and dale. The 
coral trees, with their graceful stems and curious forms, stand in 
groves, decorated with the polypes. Parasites of the most deli- 
cate structure and softest tints strew the bottom, which is of 
the purest and whitest sand, hang like leaves and flowers from 
stronger plants, or cling like mosses and lichens to the branching 
coral, lending rare enchantment to the scene. Fishes innumer- 
able, of many colors and of exquisite movement, dart from tree 
to tree to sip the flowers or feed among the branches. When the 
shades of evening fall, the sea shines like the milky-way, with 
myriads of brilliants ; the microscopic medusae and crustaceans, 
invisible by day, constitute the beauty of the night; the sea- 
feather, vermilion by daylight, now waves in a phosphorescent 
green. Every part of the sea is luminous: even those plants 
which are of dull colors, now become radiant in the most won- 
derful play of green, yellow and red lights. 

Water is one of the most powerful and benign agents in the ter- 
restial economy. It becomes a solid, and in passing from a fluid to 
2 



248 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

a solid state displays a power which forces the rocks from their 
very foundations, rends them into fragments, or grinds them into 
sand. 

Gently and tenderly it bathes the fevered brow and parched 
lips of some weary traveller. How gallantly it bears upon its 
bosom the majestic ships ; thus conducting the commerce of the 
world. It comes in the clouds as rain, bringing to us the heat of 
the tropics, and tempers our northern climate; while in spring 
it floats the ice of our rivers and takes it away to be melted in 
warmer air. It propels water-wheels, works forges and mills, 
and thus becomes the great motive power of manufactures. 

Now it takes the form of invisible vapor, and carries off from 
the sea water to supply the mountain springs, which give drink 
to man and beast. It washes down the hill-side, levelling its 
lofty summit and fertilizing the valley beneath. The mighty 
glacier, as it glides down the mountain, is continually melting, 
and the traveller upon its rugged surface hears far down the 
creviced depths the sound of running water, as gathering volume 
from a thousand trickling streamlets, it wends its way through 
icy caves, and at last issues forth, the never-failing source of some 
noble river. 

Water, spreading itself out in clouds, protects the earth from 
the heat of the sun, or falling in snow, covers the young plants 
as with a mantle to screen them from the biting winds of winter. 
Fulfilling all these duties, it returns again to the beautiful, danc- 
ing, laughing water, more enduring than the mountains. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 249 



TORQUATO TASSO. 



A curving line of deep blue waters, fringed with mild white 
foam, softly laves the -foot of the cliffs on which Sorrento sits and 
smiles dreamily amid her orange groves in the dreamy, orange- 
scented air. Yonder, across the liquid plain, rises Capri. On 
the opposite side of the bay a tuft of vapour, white and soft as a 
plume, waves above Vesuvius' awful crest. The mountains 
behind Sorrento are furrowed with deep narrow gorges, down 
which many a torrent plunges toward the sea, overshadowed by 
luxuriant bowers of foliage, and sometimes murmuring a deep 
bourdon to the sound of voices chanting the litany of the Madonna 
in a wayside chapel, or the sharp jangle of bells that call to wor- 
ship from some crumbling tower. Sails, white, brown, or red as 
autumn leaves, are wafted over the wonderful turquoise-tinted 
Mediterranean, that quivers under the sunlight with that exquisite 
tremolar della marina which greeted Dante's eyes when he issued 
from the aura morta — the dark, dead atmosphere of eternal gloom. 
Half-naked fishermen stretch their brown sun-baked limbs on the 
brown sun-baked shore. Soft island shapes swim on the sea- 
horizon veiled in silver haze, and over all, the sky of Southern 
Italy spreads an intense delight, an ecstasy of blue! 

Sky, sea, islands, silvery vapour, shadowy gorge, and groves of 
burnished greenery studded with golden globes, are not different 
at this day from what they were when Tasso's eyes first opened on 
them more than three centuries ago. Nature here, like some 
Southern Circe, daughter of the Sun-god and a nymph of Ocean, 
smiles in eternal youth, and steals away the hearts of all men 
who behold her. 

That sparkling sea, that crystal sky, those evergreen gardens, 
with their background of mountains, were familiar to the eyes of 
Torquato Tasso in his earliest years. He was born in Sorrento on 
the 11th day of March, 1544, a season when, in that southern, 
sheltered spot, the tepid air is full of perfume and all the sweet- 
ness of the spring. Torquato's father was himself a poet of no 



250 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

mean fame — Bernardo Tasso, author amongst other things of a 
poem in one hundred cantos on the subject of Araadis of Gaul, 
which is his best known work. Bernardo Tasso belonged to an 
ancient and noble family of Bergamo, where he himself was born ; 
his wife, Porzia de' Rossi, was a Neapolitan of Pistojese lineage. 
The instances are innumerable of the transplantation of Italian 
families from one part of the peninsula to another. From Dante 
to Guarini, the history of an Italian man of letters almost in- 
variably includes a series of migrations from city to city and from 
court to court. And in that word 'court' lies the explanation of 
most of the migrations. The numerous Italian potentates and 
princes, big and little (many of them very little, if their magnitude 
be measured by the size of the territory they ruled over!), vied 
with each other in 'patronising' the Muses. And in order to do 
so efficaciously, it was, of course, necessary to bestow some patron- 
age on the poets and artists whom the Muses deigned to inspire ; 
those goddesses being, indeed, unpatronisable except by deputy! 
One may serve Calliope or Polyhymnia in one's own person, but 
one cannot patronise them save in somebody else's ! This being so, 
poets, philosophers, painters, sculptors, and such-like folks, were 
in great request amongst sovereign rulers, and wandered from 
court to court throughout the length and breadth of Italy, from 
Turin to Salerno, from the Mediterranean to the Adriatic shores. 
It is strange and somewhat sad to observe that the result of all 
this sovereign patronage, however agreeable and flattering it may 
have been to the Immortal Nine, was in nearly every case to 
embitter and oppress the souls of the patronised — Dante's fiery 
pride, Petrarch's lofty sweetness, Tasso's romantic enthusiasm, 
Guarini's worldly culture — none of these so widely different 
qualities of these so widely different men availed to mitigate the 
sorrows, disillusions, and mortifications to which the favour and 
familiarity of the great exposed them one and all. An irritable 
genus, these poets, truly ! And we may believe that the sovereign 
patrons had their trials, too, of a serio-comic and not intolerable 
kind. 

But neither for young Torquato nor for his parents had the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 251 

inevitable time of sorrow and persecution arrived when he was 
staring with calm baby eyes at the blue gulf of Sorrento, or con- 
ning his first lessons at his mother's knee upon the shores of 
exquisite Parthenope. He lived the first years of his life in 
Naples, amidst all the luxuriant images of natural beauty which 
abound there, and which, it cannot be doubted, made an inefface- 
able impression on his tender mind. There is something pathetic 
as well as a little ludicrous in reading, on the authority of a grave 
and learned biographer, that at three years old Torquato was so 
passionately fond of study that he would willingly have passed 
his whole day in school had he been let to do so. He had a tutor, 
one Don Giovanni d'Angeluzzo, to whose care Bernardo confided 
him during an absence of the latter from Italy, and this tutor 
wrote to the absent father wondrous accounts of the child's genius 
and thirst for learning ! Luckily for Torquato, he had a loving 
mother to prevent him from becoming an odious little prodigy 
of a pedant, and to keep the bloom of childhood from being 
quite rubbed off her tender little blossom by the zealous masculine 
manipulation of the learned Don Giovanni. How beloved this 
loving mother was by her boy, and how fondly and fervently he 
kept her memory in his heart, is proved by the following touching 
lines written years afterward to record his final parting with her, 
which took place when he was not yet ten years old : — 

Me from my mother's breast, a little child, 
Harsh fortune tore. Ah, of her kisses bathed 
In tears of sorrow, oft with sighs I dream, 
And of her ardent prayers, dispersed in air ; 
For nevermore, ah ! never, face to face 
Within those arms was I to be enfolded 
In an embrace so clinging and so close. 
Alas ! With childish footsteps insecure 
I followed, like Ascanius or Camilla, 
My wandering sire. 

Yes, those years of happy study in the light of mother's eyes, 
and the warmth of mother's fond embraces, came to an untimely 
end. Little Torquato was really, it should seem, a wonderfully 
precocious child, even when a due grain of salt is added to the 






252 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

statements on that head of his preceptors. He was sent before he 
had completed his fourth year to a school kept by certain Jesuit 
Fathers, who had then but newly, and with cautious modesty, 
set up a little church and schools in a somewhat obscure street of 
Naples, called Via del Gigante.* The Tassos then were inhabit- 
ing the Palazzo de' Gambacorti (an ancestral inheritance), and 
from the palace to the schools, the future singer of 'Jerusalem 
Delivered ' trotted daily in quest of knowledge. It is related 
that such was the child's passionate thirst for learning, that he 
often rose before daylight, impatient to be gone to his teachers; 
and that on more than one occasion his mother was constrained to 
send servants with lighted torches to accompany him through the 
still dark and silent city. The Jesuits were proud of their mar- 
vellous young pupil. With their accustomed acuteness of judg- 
ment, they doubtless perceived that here was a genius of no 
common sort; and it is possible that some among them may have 
looked forward to enlisting the fiery soul of Torquato under the 
banner of the militant company of Jesus. His confessor — the 
confessor of an infant of eight years old! — considered his intelli- 
gence and his behaviour sufficiently mature and serious to warrant 
his receiving the sacrament of the Holy Communion at that tender 
age. At seven he had 'perfectly learned the Latin tongue, and 
was well advanced in Greek,' and had composed and publicly 
recited orations in prose and several poems. 

But now, as I have said, these pleasant days of study and love 
at home, and praise abroad, were to end for little Torquato, and 
in this way: His father, Bernardo, was the secretary, and 
friend, and faithful adherent of Ferrente Sanseverino, Prince of 
Salerno. Now, Don Pero di Toledo, Viceroy of the Emperor 



*The above dates were given on the authority of Manso, a contemporary 
and friend of the poet ; but Tiraboschi (Lett. It., vol. vii, book 3) observes that 
it is certainly ascertained that the Jesuits were not introduced into Naples 
before A. D. 1552, and that consequently Tasso must have been at least seven 
years old when he began to frequent their schools : a much more creditable 
statement than Manso's. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 253 

Charles V. in Naples, desired to introduce into that city, the 
tribunal of the Holy Inquisition, all' uso di Spagna, 'after the 
custom of Spain/ as one of his biographers says, and the city of 
Naples ungratefully opposed the bestowal of this blessing with 
might and main. So strong was the feeling of the Neapolitans 
in the matter, that they sent the Prince of Salerno to the Emperor 
as their ambassador, to plead with his Majesty against the pious 
project of Toledo. Bernardo Tasso accompanied the prince, his 
master, on this embassy, which took place in the year 1547. It 
was successful ; and the prince, on his return to Naples, was 
received with the utmost enthusiasm by his fellow-citizens, and 
with scarcely concealed hatred and spite by Toledo, who could 
not forgive him for having baulked his designs. But Prince 
Ferrante's triumph was short-lived. Toledo filled the mind of 
Charles V. with suspicions and prejudices against his powerful 
subject; and possibly not the least efficacious of the viceroy's 
arguments was the possibility held out to Charles of reclaiming 
for the imperial crown the customs dues of Salerno, which had 
hitherto enriched the prince's revenue. We are not now con- 
cerned to follow the windings of this story of court treachery 
and tyranny, all' uso di Spagna; for our present purpose it suf- 
fices to say the Prince of Salerno was driven from his country, 
and that Bernardo Tasso followed his master's fallen fortunes 
into France. On leaving Naples, where he left his wife, he took 
with him Torquato, who, incredible as it seems, is stated on grave 
authority to have been involved, child as he was, in the odium 
with which Toledo and his party covered the Prince of Salerno 
and his adherents. In the year 1552 the said prince and all who 
had followed him were publicly declared to be rebels, and the 
sentence included Bernardo and Torquato Tasso. 

The scene now changes for our young poet. His father 
carried him to Pome, and there left him under the charge of one 
Maurizio Cattaneo, whilst he, Bernardo, accompanied the Prince 
of Salerno to France. Cattaneo was a gentleman of Bergamo, 
long settled in Rome, where he enjoyed considerable favour at 
the Papal court, and especially from the Cardinal Albani, whose 



254 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

secretary he was during many years. He was bound to the 
Tassos not only by ties of friendship but of some distant kin- 
dred, and he seems to have fulfilled his charge towards the boy 
with almost paternal aifection. Torquato loved and honoured 
his memory all his life, and has dedicated one of his dialogues 
to him, giving it the name of 'Cattaneo.' Under this good man's 
care Torquato remained until he had completed his twelfth year. 
Meanwhile his only sister, Cornelia, who had remained with her 
mother at Naples, was married to a noble gentleman of Sorrento 
named Marzio Sersale ; and very shortly after the marriage, her 
mother died. Bernardo felt his wife's loss deeply. They had 
been a very affectionate and faithful couple, and Bernardo's 
grief was of course aggravated by his having been absent from 
Porzia in her last moments. In his sorrow and loneliness he 
resolved to send for Torquato to rejoin him. It must be 
explained that Bernardo Tasso, after his patron's final ruin, had 
returned from France to Italy, and taken refuge at the court of 
Guglielmo Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, who had invited him and 
received him very honourably. So, after some four years passed 
in the Eternal City, which years were chiefly spent in assiduous 
study, Torquato took leave of his kind preceptor, Maurizio Cat- 
taneo, and departed for Mantua. 

Among the most indelible impressions left on our poet by his 
stay in Rome appears to have been that of a certain courtly and 
almost chivalrous tone of manners which is said to have distin- 
guished Maurizio Cattaneo. The latter seems, too, to have con- 
cerned himself with the physical, as well as moral and men- 
tal, education of his pupil. Torquato was an adept in most of 
the knightly exercises of the day. When he rejoined his father 
at Mantua, he was tall for his years, handsome, and strong ; and a 
prodigy of education according to the standard of the times, 
having fully completed a course of the Greek and Latin lan- 
guages, rhetoric, poetry and logic. His father was, very natu- 
rally, filled with joy and pride at the boy's attainments, and 
although he had sent for him with the intention of keeping him 
as a companion in his widowed life, yet he shortly sent him to 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 255 

the University of Padua, there to pursue the study of the law, 
in company with Scipio Gonzaga (afterwards Cardinal), a kins- 
man of the reigning Duke of Mantua, and within a year or two 
of Torquato's own age. The two lads fell into a great friend- 
ship, lived during their student days in the closest intimacy, and 
preserved their mutual attachment through life. There, in the 
stately and learned city, Tasso passed five years of his existence, 
still so brief, but already chequered with many vicissitudes. 
Stately, sleepy old Padua, as it is now ! — with its great silent spaces 
which the sunshine reigns over victoriously ; its narrower streets 
full of welcome shade in the spring and summer and autumn 
days; its wide picturesque piazza all ablaze on market-days with 
fruits and flowers, amongst which the vivid yellow flowers of the 
pumpkin burn like flames ; its glimpses of red oleander blos- 
soms and polished dark green foliage peeping over garden walls ; 
its wide, silent, dreamy churches, and its haunting memories of 
a splendid past ! 

Padua was still splendid in the middle of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, when Torquato Tasso, and Scipio Gonzaga, and many 
another youth illustrious by birth or genius, paced its academic 
halls. Here Torquato, not yet turned seventeen, passed a public 
examination in canon and civil law, philosophy, and theology, 
'with universal eulogy and astonishment of that learned univer- 
sity/ as a contemporary writer quaintly declares. But in the 
following year, when Torquato was but eighteen, the eulogy and 
astonishment were still further intensified by the publication of 
the heroic poem called 'Rinaldo.' It was, indeed, a marvellous 
production for a youth of his age, and, in the words of his 
friend and biographer Manso, a brilliant dawn which presaged 
the rising of that full sun of genius to be displayed later in the 
epic of 'Jerusalem Delivered.' The poem was dedicated to the 
Cardinal Luigi d'Este brother of the reigning Duke Alfonso II., 
and published under the auspices of his Eminence. This was 
the first link in the chain which bound Tasso to the princely 
house of Este, to their glory and his sorrow as it proved. 
Bernardo, although naturally proud of his son's genius, seems to 



256 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

have looked with some discontent upon the lad's devotion to 
poetry. He himself was a poet, and the Muse had not bettered 
his fortunes ; and he had thought to give young Torquato a 
career which opened up a prospect of worldly success, riches, 
and a solid position — namely, the profession of the law. But 
let the good Bernardo rough-hew his ends as carefully as he 
might, the. divinity called poetry shaped them far otherwise than 
he intended. It is an old story. Boccaccio and Petrarch fur- 
nished examples of the imperious and irresistible force of inborn 
genius to break through any bonds of calculating prudence. 
And long before their time the Roman Ovid sang, undergoing 
the same struggle against parental authority : 

Nee me verbosas leges ediscere, nee me 

Ingrato vocem prostituisse foro, 
Mortale est quod quseris opus ; mihi fama perennis 

Quseritur ut toto semper in orbe canar. 

Tasso, like Ovid, chose 'undying fame' rather than the weary 
but profitable labour of studying 'verbose laws.' The one lan- 
guished in a horrible exile, the other was imprisoned as a maniac. 
Rarely does the implacable divinity confer her sovereign favours 
save in exchange for the very life-blood of her votaries ; but 
perhaps even among the tragic annals of poets there is no record 
more steeped in sadness than that of the life of Torquato Tasso. 

As yet, however, he is surrounded by the rosy light of the 
lucente aurora; youth and hope animate his breast, praise is 
meted to him in no stinted measure, friendship holds his hand 
in a firm, cordial grasp, and the clouds that are to darken the 
meridian and the evening of his days cast no shade upon the 
brightness of the morning. 

So great was the reputation of the 'Rinaldo' that the Univer- 
sity of Bologna invited the youthful poet to visit that city, con- 
veying the flattering request through Pier Donato Cesi, then 
vice-legate, and afterwards legate at Bologna, and Cardinal. 
Torquato went to Bologna and there pursued his studies, and 
even read and disputed publicly in the schools on various 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 257 

subjects, and especially on poetry. He is said to have been 
recalled thence at the instance of Scipio Gonzaga, at that time 
head of the Academy of the 'Etherials' of Padua — one of the 
numberless institutions of the kind which sprang up in Italy 
in the sixteenth century. Scipio is said to have been jealous of 
Bologna's having possession of the rising genius instead of 
Padua; and moreover to have desired Tasso' s return to the 
latter place from motives of personal attachment to him. Cer- 
tain it is that Tasso did return to Padua, where he was received 
with great honour by the 'Etherials,' amongst whom he assumed 
the name of 'Pentito,' or 'The repenting one/ This singular 
choice of an appellation is explained by Manso to mean that 
Tasso repented the time he had spent in the study of law. But 
Tiraboschi reveals a bit of secret history which Manso either did 
not know or chose to suppress, and which shows that vexations 
and mortifications were not spared to the young poet even in 
these early days of his fame. Tiraboschi possessed a long letter 
written by Tasso to the vice-legate Cesi, above-mentioned, from 
which it appears that the poet during his stay in Bologna was 
accused of being the author of certain libellous verses, and that his 
dwelling was consequently searched by the birri (officers of the 
law, in such evil repute that their title is a term of reproach in 
Italy to this day), and his books and papers carried off, and that 
this was the true cause of his quitting Bologna. Tasso indig- 
nantly defends himself against the charge, and complains with 
much spirit to the legate of the injurious treatment he suffered. 
'Why,' says he among other things,' 'were the birri sent to my 
rooms on a slight and unreasonable suspicion, my companions 
insulted, my books taken away ? Why were so many spies set 
to work to find out where I went ? Why have so many honour- 
able gentlemen been examined in such a strange fashion ?' He 
demands, moreover, to be allowed to come to Bologna, and justify 
himself before some wise and impartial judge, 'which, however/ 
says Tiraboschi quietly, 'does not appear to have been granted to 
him.' The letter bears date the last day of February, 1 564, and was 



258 ST. MARTS MUSE. 

written from Castelvetro, at that time a feudal tenure of the 
Counts Rangoni within the territory of Modena. 

Tasso was thus within a few days of having completed his 
twentieth year when he left Bologna. 

During his second sojourn in Padua he appears to have 
sketched out the first plan of his great epic, the 'Jerusalem 
Delivered/ which he intended from the first to dedicate to Duke 
Alfonso d'Este, sovereign of Ferrara. In the year 1565 he was 
formally invited by the duke to take up his abode at the court 
of the latter. Chambers were provided for him in the ducal 
palace, 'and all his wants so considered, as that he should be able 
at his leisure, and free from care, to serve the Muse both by con- 
templation and composition ; the which, in truth, he did, by pro- 
ceeding with the poem of the "Jerusalem Delivered," and writing 
those earlier rhymes and dialogues in prose which were the first 
to be beheld with eagerness and astonishment by the world. 
(Manso : Life of Torquato Tasso.) 

If ever ghosts walked in the sunlight, I think they would 
choose the long, sunny, grass-grown, silent, slowly crumbling 
streets of Ferrara for such wanderings. The changes there for 
the last three centuries or so have been brought about, not so 
much by the advent of new things, as by the fading and decay 
of the old. Like an antique arras solely preyed upon by moth 
and dust, Ferrara yet preserves a faint and colourless image of 
the olden time ; and her aspect appeals to the fancy with all that 
pathos which belongs to things once stately and noble, now rot- 
ting in oblivion and decay. As Browning, in his poem entitled 
'A Toccata of Galuppi/ speaks of the fair Venetian dames who 
used to listen to that quaint music, toying with a velvet mask or 
drinking in soft sounds of courtship covered by the tinkle of the 
harpsichord, and exclaims, with the sensitiveness of a poet — 

What's become of all the gold 
Used to fall and brush their bosoms ? 
I feel chilly and grow old ! 

so one may feel chilly in the sunny streets of Ferrara, thinking 
of all those brave figures, shining with beauty, valour, splen- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 259 

dour, and genius, which used to pace them, and have marched 
across the illuminated disc of this life into the fathomless shadow 

of the dread beyond. 

Duke Hercules, the immediate predecessor of Tasso's patron, 
Alfonso II., had beautified and extended his city very greatly. 
In his time and under his auspices a whole new quarter sprang 
up, enclosed by an extended circuit of walls fortified according 
to the military science of that day. He caused a number of new 
streets to be planned, and compelled the monks of various relig- 
ious houses, such, for example, as the Monastery of St. Catherine, 
of the Angels, and of the Carthusians, to sell or let on lease 
their lands which bordered on the new streets, in order to have 
stately mansions constructed on them. In this way, in the Via 
degli Angeli alone there arose four or five truly magnificent 
palaces, besides other handsome edifices ; and of these palaces 
the visitor to Ferrara will probably remember most vividly the 
Palazzo de Diamanti, so called because the whole of its facade is 
covered with massive stonework, each block of which is cut in 
facets, like the surface of a precious stone. This splendid build- 
ing existed, then, in Tasso's time ; but when he first saw it, it was 
not yet completed. It belonged to the Cardinal Luigi d'Este, to 
whom it had been bequeathed by Duke Hercules, together with 
a sum of money to finish it. And the Cardinal finished it 
accordingly in 1567 — that is to say, two years after Tasso first 
went to reside at the court of Ferrara. The city was then a 
brilliant scene, the resort of the most famous, talented, and illus- 
trious Italians of the day. Beauty, rank, and genius figured on 
that stage. The first parts, the leading personages in the drama, 
w r ere admirably filled ; even tragic elements were not wanting to 
complete the interest and prevent any chance of a monotony of 
cheerfulness ! A great poet suffering from hopeless love and 
forcibly imprisoned amongst maniacs, for instance, must have 
been a thrilling incident. As to the choral masses in the back- 
ground, the crowd which figured in dumb show, the populace, 
in short, they suffered a great deal from pestilence and famine in 
those days ; both which scourges fell, of course, more heavily on 



260 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the poor than on the rich. But still it appears that Alfonso II. 
did his best for them according to his conception of his duty. 
The population of the city, according to a census taken in 1592 
by command of Pope Clement VIII. soon after the death of 
Duke Alfonso, .amounted to 41,710 souls, exclusive of ecclesias- 
tics, foreigners, and Jews; including those categories, it reached 
to over 50,000. The number of inhabitants in Ferrara in the 
present year is but 30,000 ! 

In the year 1570 (according to Tiraboschi and Rosini, 1572 
according to Manso) Tasso accompanied the Cardinal Luigi d'Este 
on an embassy with which the latter was charged by Pope Gregory 
XIIL, to the court of Charles IX. of France. There the poet 
was loaded with flattery and honours ; the king himself particu- 
larly delighted to distinguish him for the reason, as it is alleged 
by contemporary biographers, that Tasso had paid such a splen- 
did tribute to the valour of the French nation in his great poem 
of 'GotFredo.' Thus it would seem that the 'Jerusalem Deliv- 
ered' was originally destined to bear the name of Godfrey de 
Bouillon, and also that it was far enough advanced at the period 
of Tasso's visit to France to allow of a portion of it having 
become known to the world, at least to the little world of courtiers 
who surrounded the poet. 

But Tasso did not remain very long in France. Within a 
twelvemonth he returned to Ferrara, drawn thither by an irre- 
sistible attraction — his unhappy and misplaced passion for the 
Duchess Eleonora d'Este. It appears clearly from the poet's 
own w^ords* that he became fantastically enamoured of the 
princess's portrait before he had seen her ; for on his first arrival 
in Ferrara, during the festivities on the occasion of the marriage 
of Duke Alfonso with Barbara of Austria, Eleonora was too 
indisposed to leave her room. But very soon his love ceased to 
be merely a fantastic dream, and became only too serious and 
fervent. On her part, the princess was touched and flattered by 
the adoration of the greatest poet of his day, who was at the 

*Sonnet 149. Edition of Pisa. Nel tuo real petto. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 261 

same time a very accomplished cavalier. She seems to have had 
an insatiable appetite for his homage, his praises, conveyed in 
immortal verse, and his respectful worship of her, at a distance. 
But the best testimony of the most illustrious Italian commenta- 
tors seemed to exclude the idea that the princess so derogated 
from her rank as to return Tasso's love like a woman of a less 
illustrious breed, or as he very certainly desired that she should 
return it. Scandals of a much graver kind than a love intrigue 
between an unmarried princess and a poet were rife enough in 
that time and place to make such a suspicion neither strange nor 
improbable. But various circumstances, minutely searched for, 
sifted, and collated, concur to show that there is no ground for 
darkening Eleonora's maiden fame. 

But she cannot, I fear, be acquitted on a different count, that, 
namely, of a cold, hard, and unwomanly indifference to the terri- 
ble misfortunes which fell upon Torquato Tasso for love of her. 
During his long and horrible imprisonment in the hospital of St. 
Anna, she vouchsafed no reply to his heartrending appeals to her 
for mercy; nor, so far as is known, did she make one effort to 
intercede with the duke her brother for his release. It is true, 
however, and may be pleaded as an extenuating circumstance, 
that to have done so might have endangered her own position in 
her brother's court, and might even have resulted in her own 
imprisonment in some dull cloister, which Madonna Eleonora 
would have found a dreary exchange for her brilliant, luxurious, 
flattered existence in Ferrara. Let the excuse count for what it 
is worth, but after reading the earlier story of Tasso's intercourse 
with her, the blank, implacable silence with which she received 
his cries from prison chills and oppresses one after three 
centuries. 

After his return from France, Tasso continued to work at the 
'Gerusalemme Liberata,' and produced also a very different species 
of poem, in the charming dramatic pastoral of 'Aminta,' which 
has furnished the model for innumerable other dramas of the 
same kind. It was represented for the first time in Ferrara, in 
the year 1573, with great pomp and splendour. Afterwards it 



262 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

was played at Florence, the scenery and decorations being under 
the direction of the celebrated architect, Bontalenti. It was re- 
ceived with universal applause, and no sooner was it printed than 
it was translated into several European languages. The Duchess 
of Urbino (Lucrezia, sister of Alphonso and Eleonora D'Este) 
sent for the poet to her court, in order that he might read it to 
her himself; and he spent some pleasant and tranquil months 
with this princess, partly at Urbino, and partly in a country seat 
near to it. He returned, in company with the Duchess Lucrezia, 
to Ferrara, and not long afterwards made part of the suite of 
gentlemen who accompanied the reigning Duke Alfonso when 
the latter went into the Venetian Provinces to meet Henry III. 
of France, who had then newly succeeded to that throne, on his 
way from Poland. There was a great gathering of grandees at 
Venice, and later at Ferrara, whither the Duke invited Henry 
III., the Cardinal of San Sisto (nephew of Pope Gregory XIII.), 
Duke Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, Duke Guglielmo Gonzaga 
of Mantua, and many other notable and puissant seigneurs, to 
accompany him. The great heats (it was the month of July 
under an Italian sun), or the fatigues of the journey, or the much 
banqueting in Venice, or all three causes combined, gave our 
Tasso a quartan fever, accompanied by so great a languor and 
weakness, as to compel him to renounce all studious application 
for a time. His health was not fully re-established until the 
spring of 1575, in which year he had the satisfaction of com- 
pleting his great poem of the 'Jerusalem Delivered.' 

And respecting the completion of this fine work certain facts 
have to be recorded, which it is well to warn the reader are facts; 
for here the authentic narrative takes upon itself an air of im- 
pertinent irony, which might well be attributed to the innocent 
transcriber of historic events as a flippant attempt to hold up to 
ridicule the whole race of critics ! than whom no variety of the 
human species are less mirth-inspiring to a right-minded author. 

Tasso, then, distrustful of his own powers, thought fit to sub- 
mit his yet unpublished epic to the judgment of various learned 
men of letters, who, although it does not appear that they have 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 263 

ever produced anything themselves which posterity delights to 
honour, yet had a great reputation in their day as holding the 
secret of the only authentic road by which to reach readers in 
centuries yet unborn. Unfortunately, it turned out that these 
erudite persons differed in opinion among themselves to a degree 
quite fatally confusing to the minds of those who consulted 

i them. For example, it may interest readers of the 'Jerusalem 
Delivered/ whether in the original or in Fairfax's translation, to 
know that several critics considered that the protagonist too man- 
ifestly eclipsed all the secondary heroes of the poem; that Scipio 
Gonzaga pronounced the episode of Erminia too improbable ; 

i that Sperone Speroni found the 'unity of action' defective ; that 
another objected to the descriptions of Armida and her enchanted 

S garden as too glowing ; and that Silvio Antoniano wished that 

i not only all the enchantments, but all the love scenes of what- 
ever nature, should be ruthlessly cut out altogether. Moreover, 
the episode of Sofronia and Olindo, now deemed one of the most 
touching and beautiful in the whole poem, very narrowly escaped 

'excision, because the otherwise conflicting critics were nearly 
unanimous in condemning it. Fortunately for us of these later 
times, Tasso, after undergoing a great deal of annoyance, and 
many struggles with his better judgment, resolved to pay as little 
heed to his censors as possible. His dilemma, however, is one 
which will recur again and again ; for the ideal conceptions of a 
great genius will always be so far above and beyond his per- 
formance, as to make the suggestion of amendments in the latter 
seem very possible to him. But the discontent and diffidence of 
ian extraordinary mind as to its own work is a very different 
matter from the power of an ordinary mind to better it. 

The anxiety and curiosity with which the publication of the 
'Jerusalem Delivered' was expected, indirectly caused Tasso end- 
less pain and mortification, for the cantos were seized upon one 
by one as they were finished, and before the poet had time to 
revise or reconsider them, and passed from hand to hand until 
they reached some publishers of the day, who gave them to the 
press full of errors, and even with huge gaps here and there of 



264 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

an entire stanza. Mauso says that the MSS. of his poem were 
got from Tasso in this fragmentary manner partly by the impor- 
tunity of friends, partly by the commands of his sovereign mas- 
ters. Alas, poor poet ! Then, too, there assailed hirn a furious 
warefare waged by the Academicians of the Crusca against the 
'Jerusalem Liberated.' This critical body was not exempt from 
the destiny which appears to afflict all similar institutions, 
namely, a strange adjustment of the focus of their 'mind's eye,' 
which makes them unable to perceive genius at a lesser distance 
than one or two centuries back. One of their number, a Floren- 
tine, Lionardo Salviati, published a pamphlet in which he pro- 
nounces Tasso inferior not only to Ariosto, which might be a 
tenable opinion, but to Bojardo and Pulci ! Upon which one of 
Tasso's biographers mildly observes that this is a judgment 
'most unworthy of one who had the reputation of being learned in 
the Greek, Latin and Italian literatures, and of a first rate 
critic' {un critico dijyrim? ordine). And he subjoins farther on, 
'If criticisms dictated by a spirit of party serve to retard the 
justice due to an original writer, the latter can, however, easily 
console himself by the certain hope of occupying that place in 
the temple of glory which posterity, severe and infallible in its 
judgments, will assign to him.' A comfortable doctrine of the 
all-the-same-a-hundred-years-hence pattern, with which certain 
minds 'easily console themselves,' for the misfortunes of other 

people ! 

[to be continued. 1 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 265 



"THE PRISONERS OF THE CAUCASUS. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF X. DE MAISTRE. 



(CONCLUDED.) 

The weather, which had been favorable until then, changed 
during the day. The cold wind of Russia blew with violence, 
and dashed the sleet into their faces. They set out at nightfall, 
uncertain whether to try to reach a village, or to avoid them. 
But the long journey which would be necessary, should they pur- 
sue the latter course, was rendered impossible by a new misfor- 
tune which occurred to them near the morning. As they were 
crossing a little ravine over the ice which covered the bottom, it 
broke under their feet, and they were drenched with water up to 
their knees. The efforts which Kascambo made to disengage 
himself completed the drenching. 

The cold had never been so piercing since their departure; the 
whole country was covered with sleet. The Major, after walking 
a short distance, overcome by cold, weariness and pain, threw 
himself on the ground, and decidedly refused to go any farther. 
Seeing the impossibility of reaching his home, he considered it a 
useless cruelty to keep his companion, as he could easily finish the 
journey alone. 

"Listen, Ivan," said he to him, "God is my witness that I 
have done all that was in my power, up to this time, to profit by 
the help which you have given me; but you see now that you 
cannot save me, and my fate is decided. Go back to the line, my 
dear Ivan, return to our regiment; I command you. Say to my 
old friends and my officers that you left me here in the field with 
the crows, and I wish them a better fate. But, before leaving, 
call to mind the vow which you made in the blood of our jailors. 
You have sworn that the Tchetchenges shall never re-capture me 
living; keep thy word." While saying these words he stretched 
himself on the ground, and covered up entirely with his bourka. 



266 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

•'There yet remains one resource," replied Ivan; "it is to seek 
one of the Tchetchenges' dwellings, and gain assistance from its 
master. If he betrays us, we will at least have nothing with 
which to reproach ourselves. Try to drag yourself that far; or 
rather," added he, seeing his master kept silent, "I will go alone, 
and will try to secure the services of one of the Tchetchenges, 
and if I succeed I will come back with him to get you ; if I am 
unfortunate, if I perish and do not return to you, here is the 
pistol." Kascambo put his hand out and took the pistol. Ivan 
covered him with grass and dry branches, for fear he might be 
discovered by some one during his absence. As he started, his 
master called him back. 

"Ivan," said he, "hear my last request. If you pass the 
Tereck, and if you see my mother without me, " 

"Master," interrupted Ivan, "I will see you again this day. 
If you perish, neither your mother nor mine will ever see me 
again." 

After an hour's walk, he perceived from a hill-top two villages 
lying near together; this was not what he sought: he wished to 
find an isolated dwelling, into which he could enter without being 
seen, in order to speak to the master privately. The smoke of a 
distant chimney showed him one, such as he sought. He imme- 
diately hastened thither, and entered without being seen. The 
master of the house was seated, occupied in patching one of his 
boots. 

"I come," said Ivan, "to offer you two hundred roubles in 
order to gain your interest, and to ask a service of you. You 
have doubtless heard of Major Kascambo, prisoner among the 
mountaineers. Well, I have released him; he is here, very near, 
sick, and in your power. If you wish to deliver him again to 
his enemies, they will praise you, of course ; but I know they 
will not reward you. If you consent, on the contrary, to save 
him and keep him in your house for only three days, I will go to 
Mosdok, and will bring you back two hundred rubles in silver 
for his ransom ; but if you dare to move from that place (added 
he, drawing his poniard,) and to give the alarm in order to arrest 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 267 

me, I will murder you instantly. Your word at once or you are 
dead." 

The assured tone of Ivan persuaded the man without intimi- 
dating him. "Young man," said he, quietly putting on his boot; 
"I also have a poniard in my belt, and yours does not frighten 
me. If you had entered my house as a friend, — I never have 
betrayed a man who crossed my threshold, but now I promise 
you nothing. Be seated and say what you wish." 

Ivan, seeing with whom he had to deal, sheathed his poniard, 
took a seat and repeated his proposition. 

"What assurance will you give of the execution of your prom- 
ise?" demanded the Tchetchenge. 

"I will leave the Major, himself," replied Ivan; "do you be- 
lieve that I would have suffered for fifteen months, and that ■ I 
would have led my master to your house in order to abandon 
him?" 

"That is true, I believe you; but two hundred rubles, that 
is too little: I wish four hundred for it." 

"Why do you not ask four thousand? It costs you nothing; 
but I, who wish to keep my word, I offer you two hundred, because 
I know where I can get them, and not a kopeck more. Do you 
wish to make me a deceiver?" 

"Oh well, let it be so. Go for the two hundred rubles; and 
you will return alone, and in three days?" 

"Yes, alone, and in three days, I give you my word, but you, 
have you given me yours? Is the Major your guest?" 

"He is my guest, as well as yourself from this moment, and 
you have my word for it." 

They shook hands, and hastened to find the Major, whom they 
brought back half dead with cold and hunger. Instead of going 
to Mosdok, Ivan, learning that he was much nearer Tchervelian- 
skaya-Staniza, where there was a Cossack post, repaired thither 
immediately. 

The brave Cossacks, of whom some had been in the unfortu- 
nate engagement which cost Kascambo his liberty, taxed them- 
selves cheerfully in order to make up the ransom. At the 
appointed day Ivan started to deliver his master, but the colonel 



268 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

who commanded the post, fearing some new treachery, would not 
permit him to return alone; and in spite of the agreement made 
with the Tchetchenge, he made some Cossacks accompany him. 

This precaution came very near proving fatal to Kascambo. 
When, in the distance, his host perceived the lances of the Cos- 
sacks, he believed himself betrayed; and displaying the bold 
cruelty of his nation, he took the Major, still sick, to the roof of 
the house, tied him to a chimney, placing himself opposite, his 
rifle in his hand. "If you advance," he cried, when Ivan was 
near enough to hear, " if you take another step, I will blow out 
your master's brains, and I have fifty cartridges for my enemies, 
and for the traitor who leads them." 

"You are not betrayed," cried the denchik, trembling for his 
master's life; " they made these men accompany me; but I bring 
the two hundred rubles, and I keep my word." 

"Make the Cossacks go back," said the man, "or I will fire." 

Ivan, himself, begged the officer to retire. He followed the 
men for some distance, and returned alone; but the suspicious 
brigand would not permit him to come near. He made him count 
out the rubles at a hundred steps from the house, on the ground, 
and ordered him to retire. As soon as he had seized the money, 
he went back to the roof, and throwing himself on his knees, 
begged the Major's pardon, and asked him to forget the harsh 
manner in which he had been compelled to treat him, in order 
to secure his own safety. 

" I will only remember," replied Kascambo, "that I have been 
your guest, and that you have kept your word to me; but before 
asking my pardon, begin to take off my bonds." Instead of 
replying, the Tchetchenge, seeing Ivan return, sprang from the 
roof, and disappeared like lightning. In the same day the brave 
Ivan had the pleasure and the honor of bringing back his master 
to the bosom of his family and his friends, who had despaired of 
ever seeing- him again. 



The person who has related this narrative, passing, some months 
after in Jegorievski, during the night, by a small house of good 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 269 

appearance and well lighted, descended from his kibick,* and 
drew near a window, in order to enjoy the sight of a very lively 
dance which was taking place on the first floor. A young sub- 
officer also watched very attentively what was passing within. 

" Who gives the ball?" asked the traveller of him. 

"It is the Major who has just married." 

"And what is the Major's name?" 

"His name is Kascambo." 

The traveller, who knew the singular history of this officer, 
congratulated himself with having given way to his curiosity, 
and had the Major pointed out to him, who, radiant with happi- 
ness, forgot in that moment the Tchetchenges and their cruelty. 

"Show me, if you please," added the traveller, "the brave 
denchik who liberated him." 

The sub-officer, after some hesitation, replied "It is I." 

Doubly surprised at this meeting, and still more to find him so 
youthful, the traveller asked his age. He had not yet reached his 
twentieth year, and had just received a donation, with the grade 
of sub-officer as a reward for his courage and fidelity. This 
brave young man, after having voluntarily shared the misfortunes 
of his master, and having restored him to life and liberty, was 
now enjoying his happiness, while watching the wedding through 
the window; but as the stranger expressed his astonishment that 
he was not at the dance, and was accusing the Major with in- 
gratitude, Ivan gave him an angry look and entered the house, 
whistling the air "Hai lull, hai luli." He soon appeared in the 
ball-room, and the traveller mounted into his kibick, happy at 
not having received a blow from a hatchet on his head. 

*A kind of carriage. 

THE END. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE 

PUBLISHED MONTHLY 

BY THE 

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC. 



EDITED BY EUTERPE AND THE PIERIAN CLUB, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF 
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Mary's School, Kaleigh, N. C. 



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It is whispered that one of St. Mary's fair daughters — Mary- 
Henderson of Salisbury — will this week enter into the "holy 
estate" of matrimony. Perhaps, before we go to press, we may 
be able to announce that it is unfait accompli. 

We have reason to think our display of flowers in the Chapel 
quite creditable to our climate, when we read in letters from the 
far South that their Easter flowers could be held in the hollow 
of one hand. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 271 

We regret to say that Mrs. Meares continues to suffer with 
inflammation of the eyes, and is ordered by the doctor to give 
them complete rest. Hence we must crave the indulgence of 
our patrons for all short-comings in the present number. 

Contributions to the plate on Easter Sunday amounted to 
$45. This includes the $25 made and given by the Missionary 
Society. In this connection it must be borne in mind that the 
mite-chests have not yet been opened. 

We were very glad to see our friend Major Bingham look- 
ing so well and bright. The charge of a hundred and eighty 
boys does not seem to depress him in the least, and we hope he 
may continue to add to his cares in the same way. 

We had the pleasure of a short visit from our beloved 
Bishop on Thursday last, and were rejoiced to see him in excel- 
lent health and spirits. We are delighted to announce that he 
will be with us at -Commencement. 

We regret our inability to attend the interesting debate at 
the Bingham School on Friday, 29th. The young gentlemen 
may rest assured that their courteous invitation is highly appre- 
ciated by the young ladies, who would be charmed to accept it 
if it were in their power to do so, at this time. 

We doubt if anything in after life gives more real, restful 
pleasure to a hard-working school-girl than the short holidays of 
this season. After the steady pull, beginning at Christmas-tide 
and terminating in the forty days of Lenten discipline, this brief 
rest comes like rain on a parched and thirsty soil. 

Miss Sadie Smedes makes her home with us for the present, 
and gives pleasure to many by her bright ways and words. The 
family circle was also re-inforced during the holidays by the 
addition of Mr. A. K. Smedes, of Goldsboro. We are tempted 
to wish his clientage smaller, that we might enjoy this pleasure 
oftener. 



272 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Anothee week or two of this mild spring weather, and the 
ramblers in the grove will rejoice in a leafy canopy overhead, 
while more enterprising walkers will be tempted to the woods, 
where the short grass is already starred with white and blue inno- 
cents, and where wild violets show their pretty blue eyes under 
dark green leaves. 

Decoeated caeds are growing more and more beautiful in 
design and in richness of coloring with each season, till they bid 
fair to become works of exquisite art. On Easter morning "St. 
Mary's" presented each teacher and pupil with lovely specimens, 
and friends vied with each other in this sweet interchange of 
kindly greetings. The joyful murmur which filled the large 
dining-room as these treasures were counted and conned over, 
gave ample proof of their appreciation. 

The little ice-cream party, given by Mrs. Meares in honor 
of Fraulein Blume and Miss Roberts, was much enjoyed by all 
who attended it. Our dear Fraiilein, who is so soon to leave us 
for her beloved Fatherland, will carry with her warm wishes 
from many hearts. Miss Roberts is an elder sister of our Lalla, 
and has been for three years a student of music at the New 
England Conservatory in Boston. We were pleased to welcome 
her as a guest of her sister during the holidays. 

Theee is talk of great changes and improvements to be made 
during vacation : old floors to be taken up and new ones put 
down; an infirmary to be built where the rooms may be flooded 
with sunshine on every bright day. We look forward to a state 
of confusion, in which carpenters, plumber's and white-washers 
will be masters of the situation, while others may enjoy such 
small comfort as arises from a cheerful submission to necessary 
evils. Lucky people will flee to Asheville or other cool retreats ; 
the unlucky few who must stand to their posts, will, like Mr. 
Micawber, hope for something pleasant to " turn up ! " 

In accoedance with an old custom, Mr. Smedes, on Monday, 
took the girls over to see all the interesting points about the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 273 

Penitentiary. It was a merry party, and the brisk walk in the 
fresh air brought them back with blooming cheeks and bright 
eyes. While inspecting different parts of the building, about 
twelve of the girls became separated from the main body, and 
were, by mistake, locked up in one of the working-rooms. As 
Mr. Smedes had that morning made a playful threat to the effect /* 
that all those who had a certain number of demerits on their 
reports should be left in custody of the Penitentiary authorises, 
there was no little excitement among the fair prisoners when they 
found themselves securely fastened in. Of course, but a few 
minutes passed before they were missed and restored to liberty. 

This reminds us that only six short weeks remain before the 
closing week will be here with all its excitement, enjoyment and 
sadness. We cannot think of the many good-byes without a 
pang of sorrow, and still the happy young hearts are already 
counting the days and looking forward to that joyful one which 
will reunite them to the loved ones at home. Let us be sure 
that we carry with us the satisfaction of duty faithfully per- 
formed and honors gained by earnest effort. We are sure that 
the victor's wreath will crown more than one of our aspirants for 
literary fame, and as for our fair sisters in the Music Depart- 
ment, and those absorbed young artists whom we see standing 
before their easels even in the waning light of evening in the 
studio, we cannot tell what they will not have for our delectation. 
"Warblings at Eve" continue to float down from the rooms of 
"the Conservatory" long after lazy people have given up the 
work of the day, and still the early morning brings renewed 
sounds of melody from Miss Blume's song birds. Who is 
going to be our Prima Donna? 

Various are the ways and means employed to fill the mite- 
chests. From some unknown cause, our collections this year were 
smaller than usual, and the approach of Easter warned us that 
some step must be taken to redeem our pledges. Forthwith a 
set of rules, any violation whereof involved the payment of a 
fine, was enacted by the girls at the different tables. Notre Table 



274 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Francaise led off in the sternness of her laws. Total silence or 
an English word spoken were made penal offences; absence from 
table and want of punctuality at meals were heavily punished ; 
any unlucky wight who chanced to spill the contents of a dish 
made up by heaviness of heart for lightness of purse, while the 
heaviest fine known to the code was inflicted on those who showed 
unmistakable signs of maladie noire. Each table aspired to col- 
lect the largest sum in a given time, hence no culprit, however 
anxious to hide her guilt, had the slightest chance of escaping 
detection with so many sharp eyes watching for a victim. 

Another Eastee has come and gone ! In spite of many dire- 
ful predictions as to the weather, we had, after all, a day to be 
remembered among a thousand ; a fresh and balmy atmosphere, 
with a sun whose bright rays were no unfit emblem of the beams 
shed abroad in the hearts of loving; believers bv the Son of 
Righteousness, who this day rose from the darkness of the tomb. 

A cold spring, with late frosts, had robbed us of many of the 
flowers which this season usually brings,, yet by tasteful arrange- 
ment our decorations in the Chapel were made effective and 
beautiful. A belt of growing plants extended around the chancel 
rail, presenting a rich mass of green which a few more days 
of kindly sunshine would have crowned with a wealth of bloom ; 
swelling buds of calla standing side by side with heavy-headed 
stalks of geranium, almost ready to burst into flower. All the 
services were choral, and never were the noble tones of the organ 
more soul-stirring than in those grand strains from Bach which 
preceded the singing of the processional hymn " Now is Christ 
risen from the dead." The mighty flood of melody which those 
opening chords poured forth seemed to give voice to the thought 
that the whole earth and every living creature was giving praise 
and glory to God for the accomplished work of Redemption.. 

There was no written sermon, but after a few words of earnest 
exhortation, the solemn celebration of the Holy Communion took 
place. The long but delightful morning service was brought to 
an. end by the singing of the Magnificat. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 275 

The selection and rendering of the hy rans and chants at evening 
service gave expression to the triumphant joy which dominates 
every other feeling at the blessed season of Easter-tide, and cold 
indeed must have been the heart which was not lifted heaven- 
ward by these glorious songs of praise. At the close of the 
second lesson the Sacrament of Holy Baptism was administered 
to one of the pupils. 

On Easter Tuesday our annual visit to the Insane Asylum 
was made under circumstances especially pleasant — because novel; 
that is to say, the usual crowded, lumbering omnibus was voted 
down, and a proposition for a walk "across fields" was carried 
by acclamation. Under the guidance of that most obliging of 
cicerones, Prof. Sanborn, our large party set out merrily. After 
a charming walk through Mr. Boylan's domains, we soon found 
ourselves in the beautiful grounds of that institution, of which 
the "Old North State" feels so proud. 

Winding along the gravelled walk, we gradually ascend the 
picturesque slope in front of the building, and have ample oppor- 
tunity for observing its massive architecture and noble propor- 
tions. Approaching nearer, we are impressed with its admirable 
adaptation to its great purpose ; with the exquisite neatness of 
the grounds ; with evidences of careful provision for the enjoy- 
ment and pleasure of the patients, as well as for their well-being 
and comfort. Patches of flowering shrubs, and parterres of rich 
flowers dot the well-kept lawn like gems in an emerald setting. 
Here and there great forest trees stretch out their leafy arms to 
enfold in grateful shade the weary pedestrian. Large, cheery 
windows open upon a sunny terrace, and pots of blooming flowers 
upon many of their sills suggest the happy thought that all is 
not gloom in that abode of suffering and misery. 

At the threshold we are met by the presiding genius of the 
place, good Dr. Grissom, whose handsome face lights up with 
genial hospitality as he bids us welcome, and offers to conduct us 
through the mysterious building. With a sort of breathless 
interest we follow him through the lofty hall and corridors ; with 



276 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

vague apprehension we hear the click of the bolt behind us as 
we enter ward after ward and find ourselves in such close contact 
with the afflicted ones, for whom earth has no home so happy as 
this. Admiringly and gratefully we gaze upon the portrait of 
Miss Dix, which the Doctor points out to us as the memorial of 
the noble woman to whose efforts the very existence of the 
Asylum is due. We hear that this woman's heart was so full of 
grief for the sorrows of this class of suffering humanity, that she 
devoted her life to their alleviation — leaving her home of luxury 
and wealth, she travelled from State to State besieging their 
legislative bodies with urgent appeals to provide asylums where 
these poor outcasts could be cared for. In North Carolina at 
least, her humane importunity was rewarded, and this institution 
is her enduring monument. 

And her mantle could have fallen on no worthier shoulders 
than his to whose care the State commits the great trust. Dr. 
Grissom's executive ability secures the most admirable adminis- 
tration of the domestic affairs of the institution, his kindly nature 
commands the affection and confidence of his patients, and his 
intelligent views and broad humanity make him ever watchful 
for the best interests of his work, and careful that it shall receive 
the benefit of every appliance suggested by scientific advance- 
ment. 

But we must not presume to laud him professionally, rather 
would we acknowledge his courteous hospitality to us on this 
occasion, and thank him for the unwearied kindness which 
met and answered every detail of school-girl curiosity and 
interest. 

At last, accompanying him to the parlor, our cup of gratitude 
is filled to overflowing at sight of the feast of good things there 
spread before us. In a glass of his own good wine we pledge 
his health and wish him many a year of continued usefulness in 
his great and good work. Then bidding "good-bye," we turn 
our steps homeward with another "holiday memory" stored away 
in our hearts to gladden them in the years to come. 



ST. MART 8 MUSE. 277 

In our last issue we inadvertently omitted to append an im- 
portant note to the composition by Miss Mary Yarborough, 
entitled "From Baal bee to Damascus." It should have been 
explained that the paper was a resume of one of Bishop Lyman's 
delightful "Lectures on Foreign Travel," which never fail to 
interest the girls, and which they sometimes beg leave to impress 
upon their memory by writing abstracts of them in place of the 
regular composition-work of the week. 



ANSWERS TO PRIZE QUESTIONS. 



Senior Series. 



1. Where and what was the island Atlantis? 

Answer. — An island fabled by Plato to have existed outside 
the pillars of Hercules, some nine thousand years before his day. 
He describes it with so much circumstance, that the ancients be- 
lieved in its reality, and that it had been submerged by the flood. 

2. What two Queens of Ancient History were noted linguists ? 
Answer. — Cleopatra of Egypt and Zenobia of Palmyra. 

3. Whence did Tennyson draw the materials for his "Epic of 
King Arthur" ? 

Answer. — From the collection of Welsh legends, published in 
the 16th century by Sir Thomas Mallory, and from the Mabi- 
nogion of Lady Charlotte Guest. 

4. When and by whom were tournaments first introduced into 
England ? 

Answer. — In the latter part of the 13th century by Edward 
I. They had been prohibited by his predecessors and denounced 
by the Church. 

5. What great victory was commemorated by a medal with 
the inscription "Flavi Jehovah et dissipati sunt" ? 

Answer. — The victory gained by the English over the Spanish 
Armada, A. D. 1588. 



278 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

6. For what purpose were the hanging gardens of Babylon 
built ? 

Answer. — According to legend, to remind Amytis, Nebuchad- 
nezzar's Medean queen, of her mountain home ; according to 
Rawlinson, to afford a refuge from the swarms of gnats that in- 
fest the banks of the Euphrates. 

7. At what period and for how long a time were there no Jews 
in England ? 

Answer. — From Edward I. to Cromwell ; from 1290 to 1655. 

8. What three poets have made a descent into hell a prominent 
feature in their work? • 

Answer. — Homer, Virgil and Dante. 

9. Who were the successful reformers of the three great pagan 
religions ? 

Answer. — Zoroaster, Confucius and Mahomet 

10. What great astronomical discovery signalizes the opening 
of this century, and what was its importance ? 

Answer. — The discovery of the first asteroid, Ceres, which 
demonstrated the truth of Bode's Law. 

11. Give some one prominent event connected with the epoch 
of the Reformation ? 

Answer. — The invention of printing. 

12. The origin and meaning of the expression "Sub Rosa"? 
Answer. — It means "secretly." From a custom of the Rosi- 

crucians. 

13. What oldest son of an English King after Edward II. 
was never Prince of Wales, and why ? 

Ansicer. — Edward VI.; because Mary Tudor had been created 
Princess of Wales by her father, Henry VIII. 

14. Whence do we derive the idea of the " music of the 
spheres." 

Anstaer. — From Pythagoras. 

15. What three noted female novelists have written under 
masculine noms de plume? 

Answer. — Charlotte Bronte, " Currer Bell ; " Marie Dudevant, 
" George Sand ; " Marian Evans, " George Eliot." 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 279 

16. What woman was the wife of two kings, the mother of 
two kings, the step-mother of two kings, and the aunt of three ? 

Answer. — Emma, wife of Ethelred the Unready, and after- 
wards of Canute the Great ; mother of Edward the Confessor 
and Harold ; step-mother of Edmond Ironsides and Hardi- 
canute ; aunt of William the Conquorer, William Rufus and 
Henry I. 

17. In the structure of what great building are some portions 
of the Temple of Diana of the Ephesians to be found ? 

Answer. — In the Church of St. Sophia, in Constantinople, 
now a Mohammedan mosque, are pillars of porphyry and agate, 
said to have been taken from the Temple of Diana at Ephesus. 

18. What European possession has England lost within the 
last fifty years ? 

Answer. — The Kingdom of Hanover, on the accession of 
Victoria, passed to her uncle Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, since 
the Salic law is still in force in that country. 

19. In Tennyson's "Dream of Fair Women," who are the 
"fair women"? 

Answer. — Helen of Sparta, Iphigenia, Cleopatra, Jephthah's 
daughter, the "Fair Rosamond," Joan of Arc, Eleanor of 
Castile. 

20. What king thought himself "above grammar" ? 
Answer. — Sigismund of Luxemburg, who, when presiding at 

the Council of Constance in 1414, was corrected by a Cardinal 
in the use of false Latin, and replied : "Ego sum Hex Romanus 
et super grammaticus." 

21. What three men have been masters in the arts of the silver- 
smith and the gem-engraver ? 

Answer. — Theodore of Samos, Demetrius of Palmyra, and 
Cellini of Florence. 

22. What is the origin of the word pasquinade? 

Answer. — From a statue in Rome called Pasquine, on which 
used to appear every morning lampoons upon the government, 
ecclesiastical and civil, the authorship of which was never dis- 
covered. 



280 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

23. Who was the "faultless painter" ? 
Answer. — Andrea del Sarto. 

24. What great personages, mythical or historical, have been 
blind ? 

Answer. — Sampson, Homer, Tiresias, Phineus, Thamyris, 
Milton, Ossian, Galileo, Belisarius. 

25. What Englishman is at once an artisan, an artist, a painter 
and a poet ? 

Answer. — William Morris. 

26. Who have ever received the great papal gift — the Dove 
of Pearls — and for what ? 

Answer. — Godfrey de Bouillon; the Duke of Alva, for his 
cruelties in Holland ; John Sobieski, for his victory over the 
Turks before Vienna; and Marshal Daun, the Austrian General 
who triumphed over Frederick the Great at Kolin and Hoch- 
kirchen. 

27. Who was David Alroy. 

Answer. — A young Jew of the royal line, who in the twelfth 
century proclaimed himself in Persia, King of the Jews, and 
for some months succeeded in maintaining his title. He was 
afterwards betrayed and assassinated. 

28. What is a Barmecide Feast, and what the origin of the 
expression ? 

Answer. — The famous feast in the "Arabian Nights," where 
the guests were served with only imaginary viands is represented 
to have been given by one of the Barmecides. Hence the name 
"Barmecide feast" attaches to all festive occasions where there is 
more of glitter and show than substantial comfort for the inner- 
man. These "children- of Barmek" were a noble family in the 
time of the Caliphs; many of them held high offices, civil and 
military, and one of them was tutor to the famous Haroun-al- 
Raschid himself. The family were finally destroyed through the 
malice of the Caliphs, who became jealous of their great popu- 
larity. 

29. In what modern novel do we find a vivid description of 
Florentine society in the time of Lorenzo the magnificent? 

Answer. — In "Romola" — George Eliot. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 281 

■ 30. What modern novel gives the life of the parents of 
Erasmus? 

Answer. — "The Cloister and the Hearth" — Charles Reade. 

31. What led to the foundation of Venice — when? 
Answer. — At the approach of Attila the Hun, A. D. 447, the 

natives fled before him and took refuge in the islands at the head 
of the Adriatic, where the city of Venice now stands. 

32. Who was the Winter King ? 

Answer. — Frederick the Elector Palatine, was elected King of 
Bohemia, reigned one year, and was driven from his throne. 

33. What is a clepsydra, and when was it first used ? 
Answer. — A water-clock, used in Greece in the time of Hero- 
dotus. 

34. What town is sometimes called "Old Sarum," and why ? 
Answer. — Salisbury, sometimes called "Old Sarum," from a 

rotten borough of that name near by. 

35. What noted ancient Queen had a celebrated philosopher 
as chief counsellor, and who was the philosopher ? 

Answer. — Longinus the Greek, resided at the court of Zenobia, 
Queen of Palmyra. 

36. What is the legend concerning the name of the river 
Humber ? 

Answer. — Humber, King of the Hunds, invaded Albion, 
(afterwards Britain) was defeated and drowned in a river which 
to this day retains his name. (See Milton's History of Britain.) 

37. In whose reign and in what play did the first English 
actress appear on the stage ? 

Answer. — In the reign of Charles II., 1661, in the play of 
Othello. Previously female characters had been personated by 
boys. 

38. What modern tale is based upon an episode in the life of 
the great Scanderbeg ? 

Answer. — D'Israeli's Rise of Iskander. 

39. Whence did the river Severn receive its name ? 
Answer. — It was named after the maiden Sabra, daughter of 

Loerine, a king of Albion, about the time of Samuel. She was 



282 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

thrown into the river by her jealous step-mother, who decreed 
that it should thenceforward bear the name of Sabrina, after- 
wards corrupted to Severn. The story is related by Geoffrey of 
Monmouth. 

40. Who was Toussaint L'Ouverture ? 

Answer. — The revolutionist and liberator of San Domingo ? 

41. What Pope caused the Creed to be publicly set forth in 
the church graven on two great silver plates, one in Latin, the 
other in Greek ? 

Answer. — Leo III. 

42. The author of " quod semper quod ubique, quod ab 
omnibus" f 

Answer. — Vincent of Lerins. 

43. Who was Joseph Balsamo ? 

Answer. — An Italian impostor, who under various names, 
visited many countries as an alchemist and astrologer. He 
appeared in Paris under the title of Count Cagliostro, in the 
reign of Louis XVL, and was concerned in the affair of the 
diamond necklace. 

44. How many general councils of the Church have been held, 
when, and where ? 

Answer. — 1. Nice, A. D. 325; 2. Constantinople, A. D. 381; 
3. Ephesus, A. D. 431 ; 4. Chalcedon, A. D. 451 ; 5. Constan- 
tinople, A. D. 555; 6. Constantinople, A. D. 680. 

45. What Pope sent a crown to one whom he would recognize 
as Emperor, and what was the inscription upon it ? 

Answer. — Gregory VII., "Petra dedit Petro, Petrus diadema 
Rodolpho." 

46. In what respect does the modern treatment of history dif- 
fer from the ancient, and who instituted the change? 

Answer. — Modern historians do not depend solely upon the 
assertions of older writers, no matter how credible their testi- 
mony, but seek a nation's history in its State papers, and in the 
revelations of archeology, mumismatics and philology. 

47. What literary forgeries were successfully palmed upon the 
world ? 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 283 

Answer. — The history of Sanchoniathan, and the works of 
Macpherson and Chatterton. 

48. Where and how did the modern "farce" originate ? 
Ansiver. — The history of &c, &c, Chatterton ; also the 

"Forged Decretals" which served greatly to establish the power 
of the Popes. 

49. What is the origin of the word "grotesque" ? 

Answer. — From a peculiar style of decoration found upon 
antiques dug out of caves which, from the Italian word "grotto" 
were called "grotesque." The word has since acquired a 
wider signification. 

50. What is the story of Antinous ? 

Answer. — Antinous was a youth of Bithynia, of extraordinary 
beauty, who is said to have devoted himself for the restoration of 
the Emperor Adrian's health, by throwing himself into the Nile, 
in the year 132, on the faith of a prophecy to that effect. He 
was honored by Adrian with medals and statues to his memory, 
and among these is the exquisite model of masculine grace and 
beauty so often alluded to. 



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MADAME CLEMENT'S 

School for Young Ladies and Children, 

GERMANTOWN, PENN, 
(Established in 1857.) 

School Year begins Sept. 14, and ends June 14, 1881. 



EDWARD J. HARDIN, 
GEOCEE, 

DEALER IN 

Fine Teas, Wines and Liquors, Ales and Porters and Grroceries 
and Provisions generally. 
Fayetteville Street, Raleigh, N. C. 



ly v yy / l- 1 J t 







^:> 




ST. 'MARY'S MUSE. 



Yol. III. Raleigh,N. C, MAyAN^ JuMs, 1881. .Nos. 9-10 



p L^^^ ^= 




ROMANCE DE RICHARD COEUR BE LION.* 



FROM OPERA OF SAME NAME, BY SEDAINE, 17! 



O Richard ! o mon roi ! 

L'univers t'abandonne ; 

Sur la terre il n'est done que moi 

Qui s'entiresse a ta person ne ! 

Moi seul dans l'univers 

Vaudrais briser tes fers, 

Et tout le monde t'abandonne, 

O Richard ! o mon roi ! 

L'univers t'abandonne, 

Et sur la terre il n'est que moi 

Qui s'entiresse a ta personne. 

Et sa noble amie — helas ! son coeur 
Doit etre navre de douleur ; 
Oui, son coeur est navre de douleur, 
Monarques, cherchez des amis, 
Non sur les causiers de la glorie, 
Mais sons les myrtes favoris, 
Qu 'offrent les filles de Memoire, 
Un troubadour, 
Est tout amour, 



* The only ancient ballad about Richard Coeur de Lion and Blondel in ex- 
istence. 



288 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Fidel ite, Constance, 

Et sans espoir de recompense. 

O Richard ! o mon roi ! 

L'univers t'abandonne; 

Sur la terre il n'est done que moi , 

Qui s'entiresse a ta person ne ! 

O Richard ! o .mon roi ! 

L'univers t'abandonne, 

Et sur la terre il n'est que moi, 

Oui, e'est Blondel ! il n'est que moi, 

Qui s'entiresse a ta personne ! 

N'est il que moi, 

Qui s'entiresse a ta personne ? 



RICHARD CCEUR DE LION. 



Richard I., surnamed Coeur de Lion, on account of his great 
courage, was the son of Henry IL, of England. His mother 
was the divorced wife of the French King Louis VII., and to 
her training are due, to great extent, the only blots which darken 
the fame of one of England's noblest sons. It was at the insti- 
gation of his mother that Richard took part in the disgraceful 
rebellion against his father, of which he afterward so bitterly 
repented. When he succeeded to the throne he chose his min- 
isters and other officers from among those who had been friends 
of his father, but would never allow one who had participated 
in his own rebellion to approach him. From all descriptions 
which are given of his personal appearance, we must infer that 
he was extremely handsome. He is described as being very tali, 
with large, well proportioned limbs, dark blue eyes and brown 
hair. 

Having taken an oath to try to deliver the Holy Land from 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 289 

the Saracens, he left England soon after his coronation, and of 
the ten years during which he reigned, less than one was spent 
among the people who called him king. Leaving the adminis- 
tration of the government in the hands of the Bishops of Dur- 
ham aud Ely, Richard proceeded to the plains of Vezelar, the 
place of meeting agreed upon with the French king. Here 
reviewing their united troops, they found that they amounted to 
one hundred thousand men. The- French and English kings 
renewed their promises of friendship, and each pledged himself 
not to interfere with the other's dominions during the Crusade. 
They then separated, Philip going to Genoa and Richard 
taking the road to Marseilles. Embarking from different ports, 
they met in Sicily, where they were compelled to spend the 
winter. Here Richard and Philip were thrown into almost con- 
tinual companionship, and as their temperaments were naturally 
antagonistic, the friendship which had previously existed be- 
tween them was changed to hatred. Richard's increasing fame 
and popularity excited jealousy in the breast of the less favored 
Philip, and this was the feeling which, being nourished, after- 
wards caused him to withdraw from the enterprise they had 
undertaken together. After starting on the Crusade Richard 
was married in the island of Cyprus to Berengaria, a princess of 
Navarre. 

Coeur de Lion was vehement and impulsive, and possessed all 
the good as well as the bad qualities belonging to that character. 
He was open, frank, generous, sincere and brave; but he was 
revengeful, domineering, ambitious, haughty and cruel. His 
bravery was attested by the manner in which he fought. He 
was always found in the thickest of the fight, urging on his men, 
plying his huge battle-axe so vigorously that few were able to 
withstand him, and winning the admiration of all, by his brave 
and chivalrous bearing. The Saracens called him Malek Rik, 
even Saladin honored him, and, some say, formed quite a friend- 
ship for him. The noble Sultan was once heard to say, that 
should Palestine fall into Prankish hands, there were none so 



290 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

worthy to receive it as those of the Malek Rik ; and he made 
Richard many handsome presents. 

Sir Walter Scott, in his Talisman and in Ivanhoe, has given 
us stirring accounts of Coeur de Lion's prowess. Who can read 
in Ivanhoe the glowing description of the " Black Knight," and 
not admire Richard? and in the Talisman, where his faults as 
well as his virtues are portrayed, we still sympathize with, and 
love him. 

Richard's greatest ambition was to be the conqueror of the 
Saracens and deliverer of Jerusalem, and this his strong arm and 
will would doubtless have accomplished had not dissensions 
arisen among the leaders of the Crusade. Philip's jealousy led 
him to return to France with the greater part of his forces, and 
Austria also deserting, Richard was left with a force entirely 
inadequate to carry on the great enterprise. Some of his own 
men, too, becoming dissatisfied, he was obliged to return home. 
His departure from the Holy Land was hastened by news that 
Philip had violated his oath, by entering into a league with 
John, and they were setting on foot plans which, if carried out, 
would deprive Coeur de Lion of his throne. He immediately 
concluded a truce of three years, three months, three weeks, 
three days, three hours and three minutes with Saladin. 

Proceeding homeward, he was shipwrecked near Aquileia. 
He disguished himself as a pilgrim, intending to pass secretly 
through Germany, but was recognized and taken prisoner by his 
bitterest enemy, the Duke of Austria, who treated him with 
great cruelty. Afterwards Leopold sold the brave knight to 
Henry IV., of Germany, who kept him in a dark dungeon, 
loaded with chains. 

The English first learned of the captivity of their king from 
a letter sent by the Emperor to Philip of France. The news 
created the greatest indignation among the English, who consid- 
ered it almost sacrilege thus to treat the greatest champion of the 
Cross. John and Philip resolved to profit by the circumstance, 
but when Philip invaded Normandy, he was repulsed with great 
loss, and John's schemes in England were equally ineffectual. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 291 

They sent large sums of money to Henry, bribing him to keep 
the king in perpetual captivity, and their bribes met with a 
hearty reception. 

For a long time Richard's place of concealment was kept 
strictly secret, and was at last discovered by a happy accident. 
Richard's favorite musician, Blondel, left England for the express 
purpose of finding his king, but had looked long and anxiously 
in vain. One evening, about sunset, he found himself near an 
old ivy-covered fortress, on the banks of the Danube. He had 
wandered about all day, and now seating himself, he drew out 
his flute, and, thinking of his king, played the first part of a tune 
which Richard had often played. His feelings overcame him 
and he was obliged to stop. Scarcely had he ceased when the 
melody was taken up and finished by some one inside the fortress. 
Astonished and excited, Blondel stepped beneath the window 
from which the sounds issued and played softly another of Rich- 
ard's favorites ; again he was answered. This convinced him 
that he had at last discovered the king, and hastening home he 
spread the joyful news. Queen Eleanor wrote to the Pope beg- 
ging his assistance, and after a long time Henry agreed to accept 
a ransom of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds of English 
money. Meantime Richard languished in captivity, thinking 
that among all who had flattered and admired him in the days 
of prosperity, not one was now making an effort to procure his 
release. He felt that he had been deserted by all except his 
faithful Blondel, and spoke his sad thoughts in this song : 

" No wretched captive of his prison speaks, 

Unless with pain and bitterness of soul, 
Yet consolation from the Muse he seeks, 

Whose voice alone misfortune can control. 
Where now is each ally, each baron, friend, 

Whose face I ne'er beheld without a smile? 
Will none, his sovereign to redeem, expend 

The smallest portion of his treasures vile ? 



292 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Though none may blush that, near two tedious years, 

Without relief, my bondage has endured, 
Yet know, my Fnglish, Norman, Gascon peers, 

Not one of you should thus remain immur'd ; 
The meanest subject of my wide domain, 

Had I been free, a ransom should have found ; 
I mean not to reproach you with my chains, 

Yet still I wear them on a foreign ground ! 

Too true it is — so selfish human race ! 

"Nor dead nor captive, friend or kindred find ;" 
Since here I pine in bondage and disgrace, 

For lack of gold my fetters to unbind ; 
Much for myself I feel, yet ah ! still more 

That no compassion from my subjects flows ; 
What can from infamy their names restore, 

If, while a prisoner, death my eyes should close ? 

But small is my surprise, though great my grief, 

To find, in spite of all his solemn vows, 
My lands are ravaged by the Gallic chief, 

While none my cause has courage to espouse. 
Though lofty towers obscure the cheerful day, 

Yet through the dungeon's melancholy gloom, 
Kind Hope, in gentle whispers, seems to say, 

" Perpetual thraldom is not yet thy doom." 

Ye dear companions of my happy days, 

Of Chail and Pensavin, aloud declare 
Throughout the earth, in everlasting lays, 

My foes against me wage inglorious war. 
Oh, tell them, too, that ne'er among my crimes, 

Did breach of faith, deceit or fraud appear ; 
That infamy will brand to latest times 

The insults I receive while captive here. 

Know, all ye men of Anjon and Touraine, 

And every bach'lor knight, robust and brave, 
That duty now and love, alike are vain, 

From bonds your sovereign and your friend to save 
Remote from consolation here I lie, 

The wretched captive of a powerful foe, 
Who all your zeal and ardour can defy, 

Nor leaves you ought but pity to bestow." 



ST. MAE Y'S MUSE. 293 

But the Lion-Hearted king was not deserted ; for Queen 
Eleanor set herself about raising his ransom, and was joyfully 
assisted by Richard's loyal subjects, who, despising the weak and 
vain Prince John, longed for the presence of their beloved king. 
They strained every nerve to raise the sum, which in those days 
was not easy to procure. 

At last the ransom was paid, and the joyful day arrived when 
Richard was expected at London. The people were wild with 
excitement and joy ; gaily colored flags floated from every win- 
dow ; the streets were thronged, and from the earliest peep of 
dawn to midnight the city resounded with cries, " Long live 
King Richard !" About three o'clock the king arrived, escorted 
by thousands of his people, who had gone forth to meet him. 
Seeing the wealth and elegance of the procession, a German who 
accompanied him exclaimed, " Had Henry known the wealth of 
Loudon, your ransom would not have been so light." 

Philip on hearing of Richard's release wrote to John : " Take 
care of yourself ; the devil is unchained." John, too much of a 
coward, and in every way too base to defend his position, only 
begged his mother to intercede for him, and threw himself at 
Richard's feet, imploring forgiveness. Richard, always gener- 
ous and forgiving, replied, " Rise, brother ; I forgive you all, 
but I would that I could forget your injuries as easily as you 
will my pardon." 

Richard's death is one of the saddest recorded in history. He 
was engaged in a war with Philip, and wished to raise funds suf- 
ficient to carry it on, so he hailed with delight the news that a 
treasure of great value had been found by the Viscount of Limo- 
ges near the Castle of Chaluz. The treasure was reported to be 
twelve knights of gold, seated around a golden table. Richard 
demanded it of the Lord of Chaluz, and being refused, at the 
head of a company of Brabancorns, laid siege to the castle. As 
he and one of his knights were one day taking a view of the 
fortifications, an officer of the garrison, Bertram de Gourdon, 
discharged a bolt, which struck the king on his shoulder. The 
wound was at first considered trifling, but through want of skill 



294 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

on the part of the surgeon, it proved fatal. After several days 
of acute suffering, it became evident that the king could not 
recover, and with sad hearts his attendants realized that they 
must break the news to him, for as yet he would not believe that 
the wound was a serious one. 

For seven years Richard had not been to confession, because 
he felt that he could not forgive the injuries of Philip ; but soft- 
ened by approaching death, he sent for a confessor, and, after 
absolution, received the last sacred rites of the Church. 

It was in the month of April that his faithful followers bade 
a last farewell to their king. The buds were waking from their 
long slumber 'neath the snow, the sun's rays cast a brighter light 
on the old grey abbey, as softly through the fresh Spring day 
the sad knights bore their Lion-Hearted to his rest. Gently 
they laid him there within the shadowy aisles of Fontevrand, far 
from his native land, far from all hjs friends, but by the father 
from whom he had been so separated in life. 



BLIND 



A TALE — TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF PAUL HEYSE. 



CHAPTER YI— (Concluded.) 

With Clement he had nothing in common. In his visits to 
the parsonage, he felt himself in a strange atmosphere, and after 
his recovery he would certainly have left a company which he 
found irksome, were it not that the blind girl had been an inter- 
esting study to him from his first glimpse of her. She held 
herself aloof from him as much as possible. The first time he 
took her hand she was seized with strange inquietude, and her 
self-possession forsook her. Notwithstanding this, he spent 
hours with her, noting her keen observation, and her power of 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 295 

making her other senses compensate for, and even take the place 
of the one that was lacking. He did not understand why Cle- 
ment should devote himself so little to her, for the latter 
endeavored, more than ever, not to meet Marlina, especially 
when she was in Wolf's company. When he met her thus, 
Clement would grow pale, and the village people often met him 
wandering alone in the woods. 

One evening Clement was returning from one of these solitary 
walks, when Wolf joined him. The latter was more than usu- 
ally excited, having gone from a long visit to Marlina, to the 
village inn, where he had partaken more freely of the light 
country wine than he was aware of. ._, 

" You shall not escape me so," he called to Clement. " This 
little blind witch gives me enough to think about. She is more 
charming than a dozen women in the city who have their eyes, 
only to cast love-looks at every man. The way she holds me off 
is worthy of the most accomplished coquette." 

" Perhaps she will subdue you a little," said Clement, shortly. 

" Subdue me ! never ! When I look at her beautiful figure 
and charming face, it does not tend to subdue me. Do not think 
I wish to harm her. But sometimes it seems to me that he will 
be the happiest of men whom she, with her strong and delicate 
feelings, will love." 

" You had better keep your thoughts to yourself." 

" Why, whom do they hurt ; and whom would it hurt, were 
I to make her love me a little, just to see how she would extri- 
cate herself from the embarrassment ? Much of the inner fire 
passes out through the eyes ; but here " 

" I beg you not to experiment on her," cried Clement ; " I 
warn you, that I will neither see nor hear of such a thing !" 

Wolf seized his arm and, with a cunning smile, said, " I really 
believe that you are in love with the girl, and wish to experi- 
ment for yourself. Since when are you so squeamish ? Before 
this you have listened to me when I talked of my dealings with 
women." 

" I am not your tutor ; what have I to do with your shameful 
2 



296 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

thoughts ? But when you meddle with one near to me, who is a 
thousand times too good for you, and wish to play the same game 
with her, then it is time to interfere." 

" Ha," said Wolf, " good, good ! You are a good fellow, 
Clement, a good fellow. Get out with you, good youth." 

He gave him a slight shake and walked on. Clement remain- 
ed standing, with pale cheeks. " You must explain what you 
mean," he said, firmly. " That I was a fool. Ask another, if 
you wish to. You will find some one else who will take more 
pleasure in talking to deaf ears than I do." 

" What do you mean ? Who are the others ? Who dares to 
speak evil of her ; who ?" 

He held Wolf in an iron grasp. " Fool," said the other, 
angrily, " you are spoiling my whole walk with your tiresome 
questions. Let me go." 

"Not a step, until you have satisfied me," said Clement, in 
deepest anger. 

" I ? Settle it with the squire's son if you are jealous. Devil ! 
Lead him on until he is ready to jump out of his skin, and then 
give him his walking ticket. Is that honorable ? He told his 
distress tome; I consoled him : she is like all women, I said, a 
coquette. Now she is making for me. But we know how to 
treat them, and will not keep our mouths shut that other good 
youths may run into the same snare." 

" Take that back," cried Clement, beside himself, and shaking 
Wolf's arm violently. 

" Why, it is the truth, and I will prove it. Get out ; you 
are a child of a man." 

" And you are a lump of the devil." 

" Oh, now it is your turn to take it back." 

" I will not take it back." 

"Then you know the consequences. You will hear from me 
as soon as we get to town." 

Then he went coldly from him towards the village. Clement 
stood in the same place. " Wretch !" broke from his lips. His 
breast heaved violently, as bitter pain wrestled in him ; he threw 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 297 

himself on the ground under the tree, and lay long, every word 
which had been said repeating itself a thousand times. When 
he returned late in the evening to the house he found, contrary 
to his expectations, the family still assembled. 

Wolf only was wanting. The old man was walking with firm 
steps through the room, his mother and Marlina were seated 
working, contrary to the customs of the house at so late an hour. 
As Clement went in the room the parson stood still and turned 
toward him. 

" What have you done with your friend ? He has gone while 
we were in the fields, and has left only a short message behind. 
When we came home we found a messenger come for his things. 
Have you quarreled ? If not, why has he left our house ?" 

" We had a dispute. I am glad that I will not see him any 
more under this roof." 

" W'hat was the matter ?" 

"I cannot tell you. Father, I would willingly avoid the sub- 
ject. There are things which no man with right feelings can 
hear. I always knew that he was rough and inconsiderate 
towards all. But I never knew him as he was to-day." 

The parson looked at his son and said, slowly, " How will it 
end ?" 

" As is the custom with young men," said Clement, earnestly. 

" Do you know what is the law of Christ to settle injuries ?" 

" I know, but I cannot act so. If he had injured me I could 
forgive him. But he has insulted one near to me !" 

" A woman, Clement?" 

" Yes, a woman." 

" And you love this woman ?" 

" Yes, I love her." 

" I thought so," cried the old man. " The town has spoiled 
'you ; you have become as one of the children of the world, who 
run after women, and fight for them, and make them their idols. 
But I tell you, as long as I live I will strive to draw you back 
to the Lord, and to destroy your idols. Has God done wonders 
for you, that at the last you should deny him ? Better had it 



298 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

been had you remained forever in the dark, the door closed, 
than that the Evil Spirit should find his way to your heart with 
his enticements." 

The young man pressed back his emotion. " What right have 
you, father," he said, finally, " to attribute such low inclinations 
to me ? Because I must do that which is necessary to cast down 
in the world the insolence of a base man, am I therefore base ? 
There are many ways in which to struggle against the Evil 
Spirit. Your way is peaceful, because you have to do with the 
mass. I stand in single combat and know my way." 

" You will not change him," said the old man, hotly. "Will 
you walk over God's message ? He is my son no longer, who 
has raised his hand against his brother. T forbid you this com- 
bat by virtue ' of my fatherly and priestly power.' " 

" Then you send me out of your house," said Clement, sadly. 
There was a pause. His mother broke into tears and rushed to 
him. " Mother," said he, earnestly, " I am a man. I dare not 
be faithless." He went to the door, and looked back at Marlina, 
who was painfully searching for him with her sightless eyes. 
His mother followed him, but could not speak for sobbing. 
" Hold him not, wife !" cried her husband. " He is not our 
child, if he will not be God's child. Let him go where he will ; 
from henceforth he is dead to us !" 

Marlina heard the door shut, and the minister's wife, with one 
shriek, fell to the floor in a deep swoon. The numbness which 
had held Marlina motionless suddenly left her. She arose, and 
with wonderful strength bore the helpless woman to her bed. 
The old man stood by the window, silent, but his clasped hands 
trembled violently. A half hour later there was a knock at 
Clement's door. The young man opened it, and saw Marlina 
standing there. She walked in silently. The room was all in 
confusion. She pushed the travelling-bag with her foot, and 
said, tremblingly, " What will you do, Clement ?" Then his 
pain burst forth. He seized her hands and pressed them to his 
eyes, in which the tears stood. "I must do it," he said, gently. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 299 

" I have long known that I had lost his love. Perhaps he will 
feel when I am gone that I have never ceased to be his child." 

She raised him up and said, " Do not cry, else I will not have 
the strength to tell you what I must tell you. Your mother 
would say it, if your father did not prevent her. I know by 
his voice how hard it is to him to be so harsh. But he will not 
soften, I know well. He believes that his severity is according 
to God's will, even though he has to sacrifice his own heart." 
"And do you believe that he must do so?" 
" No, Clement. I do not know much of the world, and do 
not understand the laws of honor which require duelling among 
men. But I am sufficiently acquainted with you to know that 
the frivolity of the world can have no hold on you ; that you 
sift thoroughly both what you do and leave undone, and this step 
no less than others. You will be guilty towards him in the eyes 
of the world and of your loved one, but more guilty towards 
your parents than to both. I do not know the girl whom some 
one has insulted before you, and so cannot understand fully how 
it must anger you not to do everything for her. Do not inter- 
rupt me. Do not believe that I apprehend that on her account 
you will withdraw from me the remainder of the friendship 
which you have still kept for me in these last years that we have 
been separated. I rejoice heartily with you if she makes you 
happy. But you should not for her sake do that which you are 
about to do, even though she is dearer to you than father and 
mother. You should not in anger leave the house of your parents, 
which will then be forever closed against you. Your father is 
old and will carry his principles with him to the grave. He 
would have sacrificed the very core of his being, if he had 
yielded. You would have sacrificed to him the fleeting opinion 
which you possess in the eyes of men ; for if that girl, whom you 
love, could have sent you from her because you would not embit- 
ter the old age of your parents, she would not have been worthy 
of you !" 

Her voice failed her. He had thrown himself upon a chair, 
and groaned heavily. She drew nearer to the door and waited 



300 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

for what he should say. On her forehead there was a strange 
frown, as if she were listening to him with her eyes. Suddenly, 
he sprang up, came towards her, put both hands upon her shoul- 
ders, and cried, " For your sake I do it, and for you I wring my 
own heart." He rushed past her down the steps. 

She stood still : his last words had shaken her whole being, 
and a flood of joyous thoughts streamed through her shy, incred- 
ulous heart. She seated herself, trembling, on the valise. "For 
you, for you \" rang in her ear. She almost feared his return ; 
if he had meant differently, and why should he not mean differ- 
ently ? What was she to him ? At last he came back. She 
was seized with uneasiness and wished to go out. But he caught 
her in his arms and told her everything. "I am the blind one," 
he cried ; " you are the seeing one, the seer ! What were I now 
without your light ? One deserted for all future, banished from 
all the hearts that I love through a miserable blindness ! And 
now — now — all is again mine, and more than I knew — more 
than I ever longed for !" 

She hung in a fervent silence on his neck. All the long pent- 
up devotedness was free, and glowed in their kiss, and silenced 
their poor words. 

The day dawned on their happiness. He knew now what she had 
so steadfastly hidden all this time, and what this same room had 
witnessed in which they now, certain of one another for always, 
pressed each other's hands and parted. That day there came a 
letter which Wolf had written the same night from the next 
village. Clement must let the subject drop, he wrote ; he took 
everything back, he knew better now, and it had all been a fool- 
ish lie. Mortification and the wine had made him speak as he 
did. He had really thought, while he was going around so coolly, 
that he need only speak the word, and he could have the girl. 
But when he saw that Clement was in earnest, he had reviled 
that which was denied himself. Clement must not think him 
worse than he really was, and must make his excuses toMarlina 
and his parents, and not give him up entirely. 

When Clement read these lines to Marlina, she was touched, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 301 

and said : " He pities me now ! I was not happy while he was 
here, and how much he could have spared himself and us. But 
I will think kindly of him now. How "much we have to thank 
him for !" 



GHOSTS FROM LEATHERN GRAVES. 



One lovely spring morning, having vainly tried to settle 
myself to the morning duties, and laziness having gotten the bet- 
ter of me, I went into the library, and up to the book-case, to 
look for an interesting book. I took up several, but soon returned 
them to their places. At last I found one which I thought I 
might like, and, sinking into a luxurious arm-chair, began to 
read. Soon, however, the book fell from my hands. Gazing 
languidly around, I saw a cosey room ; the floor was covered 
with new matting, and on the many comfortable chairs were fresh 
linen covers. The walls were of a delicate, neutral tint ; on the 
table, in the middle of the room, was a brightly-polished lamp, 
around which handsomely bound books lay, inviting one to read 
them. Outside, through the open window, everything looked 
peaceful ; the green leaves gently stirred by the slight breeze, the 
meadows stretching far away where the cattle were browsing, 
the clear blue sky, and the odor of the spring flowers, together 
with the sweet singing of the birds, were well calculated to 
make one feel dreamy and lazy. 

While musing on the beauty of these things, I fell asleep. 

Soon the doors of the book-case opened, and people both large 
and small came trooping in. First came Lord Byron, with his 
unhappy looking wife, then George Eliot, Sir Walter Scott, 
Thomas Moore, the darling of society, and Enoch Arden, with 
his faltering steps and snow-white hair. George Eliot and Mr. 
Moore entered into animated conversation, while Scott talked 



302 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

with Lady Byron. Poor Enoch looked completely dazed at 
everything before him. There was a stir, and Mrs. Browning 
was ushered in, escorted by the humorous Hood, followed by his 
poor needle woman, who took her seat in a retired corner and 
commenced sewing on her numberless shirts. Next came Fran- 
ces Bruney, almost dragging in the modest Evelina, who was 
blushing like a peony at being in the midst of such a literary 
assembly. Hood took compassion on the maiden and offered his 
arm, which she took as if afraid to touch it. He tried to draw 
her out, but to his numerous questions and jokes, she merely 
answered yes, or no, without knowing what she was saying. As 
soon as he turned his head, she darted like an arrow and took 
refuge behind her chaperon. Then came David Copperfield, 
looking strangely like Dickens, and on his arm was little Dora. 
She was soon claimed by Mrs. Browning. David, after replying 
merrily to the hearty greetings which met him, went to his cor- 
ner, where he could quietly study the different characteristics of 
the people before him. His were not unkind criticisms, how- 
ever, for he was a merry-hearted, jovial fellow. Scott, feeling 
sorry for the poor workwoman, in her corner, went up to her, 
enquired after her health, said it was a fine day ; did she not 
think so ? Yes, she replied, languidly ; but, alas ! I cannot 
enjoy bright days, for it is 

" Stitch, stitch, stitch, 
Through poverty, hunger and dirt." 

Soon a luxurious couch was seen in one part of the room ; 
every one was filled with curiosity, and all eyes were turned to 
the door, which opened presently to admit Herr Von Walde, 
supporting his fragile sister Helen, and on her other side was 
Gold Elsie, one of her pets. Every one rose and made way for 
the delicate little lady, who was at last comfortably settled on 
her couch. Her friend Elsie fluttered timidly around her, lav- 
ishing delicate attentions upon her. How tenderly Herr Von 
Walde watched the lovely Elsie and longed to fold her to his 
heart ! She was very shy in his presence, and looked uncomfort- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 303 

able whenever he came near her. Soon an aged Minstrel, with 
his harp swung over his shoulder, entered, and sank wearily into 
the nearest chair. Then came Mrs. Prentice, introducing Dr. 
Eliot, his wife, and " sour sister Martha," who watched poor 
Katie with disgust whenever she looked bright and happy. She 
had a right to be light-hearted, though, for had not Ernest laid 
aside books and business to gratify her ; and was it not natural 
that she should be cheerful ? How proud Ernest was of his 
little wife ! Then came an old woman, in a red flannel petticoat, 
yellow overskirt, and poke bonnet, hobbling along, and followed 
by her faithful clog, who was wagging his tail, no doubt thinking 
that instead of having only a bone, he might get a piece of meat. 
How charming ! thought he. Then came Phylis, on Marma- 
duke's arm, looking radiantly happy ; on her other side was the 
faithful Billy, who was the innocent cause of Marmaduke's 
jealousy. Just then the Minstrel commenced to play, and danc- 
ing was proposed. 

" Come now," said Billy, going up to sister Martha and bend- 
ing one knee, " allow me the pleasure of dancing this with 
you." 

" Oh," said she, " I cannot." 

" But do, just once," replied Billy, " for I am a school-boy, 
and do not know any one here but my sister Phylis, and it would 
never do to dance with one's sister ; besides, I liked your looks 
from the first, and long to know you better." This flattered the 
worthy dame, and she allowed the irresistible Billy to lead her 
out. No sooner were they on the floor, than her companion 
commenced to cut all kinds of capers, and her nose went higher 
than ever into the air. Merry Phylis went up to quiet Ernest, 
and making a low curtsy, said, in her quaint little way : 

"I know it is not the custom for ladies to invite gentlemen to 
dance, but you look lonely, and I am dying to waltz ; so pray 
come be ray partner." 

And how could he refuse? The poor fellow looked clumsy 
enough, though, being whirled about by the active little woman. 

Herr Von Walde, in his country fashion, offered his arm to 
3 



304 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Elsie, which she took timidly, and they retired to the adjoining 
conservatory, where they probably learned to understand each 
other ; for when they returned they looked radiantly happy. 
Moore went up to Helen's couch and chatted with her awhile. 
She told him how she loved her friend, and how she hoped 
Rudolp would win her at last. 

There was a general stir, and fair Ellen, her father, mother, 
many young girls, and, lastly, the man to whom Ellen's hand 
was promised, entered the room. The poor girl kept near her 
mother, hoping to get rid of the hateful man, but he soon came 
and invited her to join the minuet. She refused, disdainfully, 
and turned her back upon him, but a stern glance from her 
father made her accept his arm. She might have been a stone, 
for never a word said she ; and he, poor coward, dared not open 
his lips. Scott and Lady Byron went gracefully through the 
different figures. Hood presently came gliding down the room 
with Mother Hubbard, followed closely by her dog, who seemed 
to think it quite a joke to see his mistress dancing with a distin- 
guished gentleman ; but the poor dame looked very uncomfort- 
able. Enoch Arden enquired what was the occasion of the ball, 
and Mrs. Browning told him it was given in honor of Ellen's 
marriage, which was to take place that evening. 

While they were talking, the tramp of horses' feet was heard, 
and young Lord Lochinvar burst in, much to Ellen's parents' 
dismay. Little that mattered to the dauntless fellow. He 
walked up to Ellen, who was standing by the intended bride- 
groom, and invited her to dance with him, and she went gladly. 
They led the minuet, and a handsome couple they were ; she in 
lovely bridal costume and flowing veil ; he in rich Highland 
dress, beautiful cap and long plume. While they danced they 
talked in low tones, at the same time looking anxiously towards 
the open door. Suddenly they flew out of the ball-room into 
the court yard, where Lord Lbchinvar's horse waited. Lightly 
he swung her into the croup, and then sprang up in front. 

Just then I heard the sweet lines of the old ballad : 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 305 

" 'She is won ; we are gone, over bank, bush and scaur ; 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinvar." 

Surely, I thought, as I opened my eyes, this was no dream ; 
that must be a real voice. 

The room was, as an hour ago, bright and full of sunlight, 
and through the open door floated the fresh, sweet voice of my 
little cousin, ringing out the words, 

" There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, 
But the lost bride of Hetherby ne'er did they see. 
So daring in love, so dauntless in war, 
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ?" 



AN OLD STORY RETOLD. 



The sun shone with tempered rays upon the spacious palace of 
great Jove, the Father of the Gods, who on this day had assem- 
bled his children in solemn council. 

In awful majesty Jupiter sat upon his throne, the thunder- 
bolts in his hand; on his right, in her virgin beauty, stood his 
stately daughter Pallas, her great wisdom shining in her calm 
blue eyes ; Juno was seated on his left, jealously watching her 
husband ; near her, Iris, arrayed in her many-colored robe. 
Diana, arrows in her hand, for she had not long since come in 
from the chase, sat listening to her brother Apollo, who had 
been playing on his lyre. Bacchus, crowned with grape leaves 
and with bunches of grapes in his hands, had also been listening 
to Apollo's delicious music. At the side of Vulcan sat his beau- 
tiful wife, Venus, playing idly with the arrows which hung on 
the shoulder of her little son, whose bright twinkling eyes were 
searching for some one whom he could wound. Hebe's glowing 
face and lovely form were visible near Venus, where she had 
paused, the cup of nectar in her hand, as Mercury, who was to 
make a request to Jupiter, spoke: "O father Jove, thou who 



306 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

holdest the thunderbolts in thy hands, who West to do good to 
mortals, listen to my tale. Last night, as speedily on a message 
of thine I went, I crossed the Hellespont, and there beheld a 
sight which grieved me much. On this side the strait at Sestos 
there stood on the seashore a maiden priestess to Venus, and as I 
gazed upon her, for she was very fair, I saw that her eyes were 
wistfully fixed on the opposite shore and her cheek was pale 
from watching and waiting. Following the direction of her 
eyes, I saw at Abydos a youth of manly stature, standing with 
arms outstretched -towards the maiden, as if the love he bore her 
must transport him across the dark waters. O Venus, goddess 
of Love and Beauty, Hero is a priestess at thy shrine ; will thou 
not intercede for her ?" 

Venus, rising, turned to Jupiter and said : " Lord of Heaven 
and Earth, if my prayers may obtain this boon for Hero, my 
faithful priestess, I willingly join them to those of our messenger." 

Then spoke the Father of the Gods : "You know, O my chil- 
dren, that it is my pleasure to incline favorably toward your 
requests. Mercury, my faithful messenger, and Venus, ever 
beautiful, I willingly give to Hero her Leander. This night 
my brother Neptune shall bear him across the Hellespont, and 
thou, Pallas, my blue-eyed daughter, must go to Hero in a 
dream and tell her to hold a beacon-light for her lover, who 
shall cross the strait to-night." 

Pallas bowed assent. 

All this while Apollo had listened with scowling brows, for he 
had seen the fair Hero, and he loved her, but all his efforts could 
not induce her to forsake her noble Leander, for hers was a faith- 
ful heart. He said nothing, but resolved that he would revenge 
himself upon Leander. 

The council being over, Mercury and Pallas set out on their 
mission of love. Passing down the side of the hoary mountain, 
through the beautiful Vale of Tempe, under the shadow of Ossa 
and Pelion, they reached the seashore, where they parted, Mer- 
cury to hasten to Neptune, with Jupiter's message; Pallas to 
cross the ijEgean, and in the twilight hour to arrive'at Sestos. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 307 

Night had come, and loving sleep had closed the tired eyelids 
of Hero. Then Pallas, in the form of Leander, came to her in 
a dream, and, bending over her, whispered softly, " Hero, my 
beloved, come to the beach to-night and hold aloft thy torch, for 
I will swim across the strait to thee." The vision fled, and Hero, 
springing np, passed by her sleeping maids, and, snatching her 
torch from before the shrine, hastened to the beach. She climbed 
the tallest cliff, though the rocks were slippery and the winds 
buffeted her about. Soon she saw a black spot on the waters ; 
nearer and nearer it came, until Leander sto^l beside her; her 
beloved had come. 

So every night she held the torch for him, and every night he 
swam the surging sea. Merrily tli£ stars shone down on their 
happy meetings and the moon listened softly to " the old, old 
story." 

But Apollo, in the meantime, was plotting against the happy 
Leander, for he had watched those midnight meetings, and 
resolved to draw Neptune away, so that Leander should have no 
support in crossing the strait. He thought that after Leander 
was drowned Hero would not cast away his love. 

The moon had waxed and waned since that first night on 
which Leander had met Hero, when Apollo gave a great feast in 
honor of Neptune. The old Sea God sent Doris, the mother of 
the Nereides, to aid Leander, but Doris thought the charge irk- 
some on the night of the feast, and determined not to help Lean- 
der, but to enjoy herself, as all the Nereides were doing. 
However, she relented so far as to carry him over, and then went 
off to the feast. 

Leander lingered long with Hero; he could not tear himself 
away, she was so beautiful. He stood upon the cliff, ready to 
leap into the restless sea, but came back another time, and, look- 
ing earnestly in her blushing face, he seemed to drink in its 
beauty, as if it must sustain him while he battled with the waves. 
After one last embrace he dashed into the dark waters. He 
struggled bravely, but the waves had conspired against him. His 
strength was almost gone, and the sea mocked him and laughed 



308 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

in glee. He must make braver struggles, for should he not cross 
to Hero the next night ? At that thought he strained his eyes 
to see her standing on the cliff, holding her torch for him ; but 
his sight was growing dim, the light was fading fast. He 
stretched out his arms to her and called her to help, but the 
waters drowned his voice and beat him back. Once more he 
rose, but only to call Hero and sink. 

The next night Hero stood upon the cliff* with a higher torch 
than ever, but no Leander came. She waited long. Ah ! surely 
he would come;the was faithful and true, yet why was he so 
late ? Could it be that those cruel waves had drowned him ? 
No, the waves were kind ,* often when the tide was going out 
she had chased them and they had run back after her and kissed 
her feet. No, it could not be that the sea, now so calm in the 
soft moonlight, had destroyed her lover. At last, she cried aloud, 
" Leander ! Leander !" No answer, save the sea, moaning back 
a sad " Leander." Or was it a fancy that she heard a whispered 
" Hero" come from the blue depths? 

She was listening, trying to hear it again, when a voice at her 
side said : "Do not call upon Leander, Hero; he will never come 
to you again. Last night he was drowned in crossing the Hel- 
lespont. Think no more about him. I love you; can you not 
love me instead of Leander?" 

With these words Apollo advanced towards Hero with out- 
stretched arms, but Hero, with a loud cry, sprang into the waves 
where her lover had disappeared. 

Way down under the dark blue waters Hero and Leander now 
dwell, for Jove pitied those two who had loved so well, and gave 
them everlasting youth. The mermaids watch them as they 
wander hand in hand among the coral groves, where no rude 
winds blow the dark tresses of Hero, but Leander twines among 
them the lovely sea-flowers. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 309 



A PROSE LA Y OF ANCIENT ROME. 



It was the golden days of autumn, hundreds of years ago. The 
river Tiber, having flooded the surrounding country, looked 
almost like the grand old ocean, for its white-capped waves came 
sailing in, breaking melodiously upon the grassy shore, and the 
distant sound of a falling cataract floated through the air like the 
song of some beautiful sea-nymph. Sleeping in a basket-cradle, 
which was drifting with the current, were two children, lovelier 
than man ever beheld, resembling gods more than mortals. From 
the side of the cradle one little arm half hung out, and the tiny 
pink fingers trailed in the water. Upon each face a smile rested, 
as if sweet childish thoughts were carrying the wee ones into 
beautiful dreamland. They knew not of their danger, for fear 
dares not enter the hearts of the innocent ones ; yet each wave 
that rocked their baby-bark seemed to be bringing them nearer 
their graves, and the birds, as they flew past, murmured, as if it 
were their last farewell. But it was not destined that it should 
so be, for an angry breaker swept them far inland, and a vine, 
which was climbing up a wild fig-tree, stretched out its clinging 
tendrils and wrapped them in a gentle embrace. 

Hour by hour the tide went down, leaving the children where 
the waves could not reach them and among the bright trees that 
glowed with the light of the setting sun. 

Not far off was a dense thicket, and from it a hungry wolf 
stole softly towards the river, but when she heard the wailing of 
the awaking children, she gave one spring and stood over the 
cradle in which they lay. Something stayed her hunger, for won- 
deringly she looked at the little ones and, with the instinct of a 
mother, took them up, one by one, and nursed them until they 
fell asleep, then crept slowly away. 

Soon from another direction a woman with an urn upon her 
head came, singing some sweet ditty of long ago. She paused as 
she passed the fig-tree, and, lifting her hands, was picking the 
mellow fruit from the heavily-laden branches, when, through the 



310 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

leaves, she spied a few black locks of hair and two sparkling dark 
eyes looking straight at her. Approaching nearer, pity filled her 
heart, and, bending low over the vine-clad nest, Laurentia folded 
the children in her arms, then kissing them, turned homeward, 
singing a soft lullaby which sent the budlings again into the 
land of dreams. 

Upon the Palatine hill, amongst glistening olives, stood her 
little cottage ; beyond were broad plains, upon which the shep- 
herds watched their sheep. 

Twilight was creeping from shadowy nooks and the " trailing 
garments" of night were following fast upon her heels when 
Laurentia reached home. Her children met her at the door, 
and with many eager questions begged to know where the babies 
came from. One of the youngest stood on tiptoe in front of her, 
and said, " Thome one hath thent them to me for a pesant ; have 
they not, mater?" while the others held on to her gown and 
clamorously demanded a peep at the infants. Just at this mo- 
ment her husband, Faustulus, after having penned his sheep up 
for the night, (for he was a shepherd,) came to her rescue, and 
with many persuasions succeeded in getting all of his own little 
lambs to bed. Laurentia then told him of how, when going 
down to the river for water, she had found the babes, and asked 
him to let her keep them, for their strange beauty had fascinated 
her. So Faustulus agreed that they should take care of the 
waifs, and gave them the names of Romulus and Remus. 

As years passed on the infants grew to boyhood, their strength 
and beauty increasing day by day. None doubted they were the 
children of the good old couple, for tenderer care of them no one 
could have taken. The shadows of the good and evil to come 
had not yet passed over their lives, for only the dawn had stolen 
upon them ; life itself seeming a lovely vision, stood before them, 
clothed in all the glory of childish imagination. Sometimes the 
two boys would go with the village children down to the river 
Tiber, where they would fight mimic battles and build mud 
cities, having for their king and men curious little wooden 
images, so different from toys made nowadays. Often under the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 311 

clear blue sky and over flowery plains they would wander, arm 
in arm, weaving stories strange and marvellous and building 
castles which soon drifted into clouds and formed themselves into 
higher aspirations. 

So life went on and care and trouble left untouched the hearts 
of our heroes until manhood grew upon them. Then one night, 
while driving a flock of sheep homeward, Remus fell into a pit, 
and there in the dark he waited for help. Above him the stars 
twinkled brightly and in the silence the nightingale's song 
sounded sweeter than ever, but no voice greeted his listening ears 
until the morning dawned and the rays of light were peeping in 
upon him, then three or four rough-looking men, clothed in ves- 
tures of the king's guardsmen, lifted him out of the trap and 
carried him before Amulius, who was struck with his noble form, 
and asked him who were his parents. In simple language Remus 
began his tale. First he told of how Laurentia had found his 
brother and himself by the river Tiber, then about his foster 
parents, and of his subsequent life. The king's face darkened 
as the story went on, for in his mind he knew that this same lad 
was one of the infants of his niece, Rhea Sylvia, and whom 
twenty years ago he had ordered to be thrown into the Tiber, 
that he might better secure his usurped throne. Already his 
black heart was plotting evil against the youth, but just as he 
was about to utter some sentence, the doors of the palace were 
burst open and a furious mob rushed in. Resistance was vain, 
and only by supplications was the king's life spared. 

From the palace to the country seat of Numitor, the rightful 
king, the mob then went, and informing him that Amulius was 
exiled and that the people proclaimed him king, they bore him 
to the palace, where, amidst their joyous shouts, he ascended the 
throne. For years the people enjoyed a mild and peaceful gov- 
ernment ; no clouds darkened the old man's reign. At his death, 
Romulus and Remus were discovered to be his grandsons, for he 
was the father of Rhea Sylvia ; therefore, they had a right to the 
throne of Alba Longa ; but both being attached to the hill upon 
which they were reared, wished to build a city upon it. A dis- 
4 



312 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

cussion arose which should be the king of the new city, and the 
people said that which ever the gods favored most should build 
the city and be its king. 

So early one morning, when all nature was awaking from her 
long sleep and bursting out into new life, Romulus went up the 
Palatine hill, and Remus the Aventine, to watch for some sign. 
All day long they watched and saw nothing; then "came still 
evening on," and the moon from a fold of clouds glided into the 
heavens, lighting the world with mystic splendor ; long, dark 
shadows moved slowly, while dancing to the music of the breeze; 
only a few faint stars glimmered far away, and peaceful slumber 
was upon all save the two watchers. When the early rays of 
light streaked the eastern sky the looked-for sign appeared. 
Remus first beheld six vultures, and directly afterwards Romulus 
saw twelve ; so the truest sign of the gods' favor fell upon Rom- 
ulus. 

The day was cloudy and the trees were bowing their heads as 
they swayed to and fro in the wind. Around the Palatine hill, 
in slow procession, a number of people were solemnly walking, 
and in front of them was Romulus, guiding four oxen and 
ploughing the trench inside which the walls of Rome were to be 
built. 

Weeks went by and about a thousand houses dotted the land- 
scape. Long, narrow streets wound here and there, meeting in 
the centre of the city, there forming four broad roads, which led 
to the four gates. 

It was the first year of his reign ; surrounded by his guards, 
Romulus sat in kingly splendor. Near the door the plebeians 
stood, and just outside the clients. Every one was silent until, 
with deep tones, the king spoke : " Countrymen and subjects, we 
have met here to-day to decide how to procure wives for our 
people. You know that the neighboring tribes have refused to 
give their daughters and sisters to us, for they say our city is filled 
with robbers and men who have led reckless lives ; they do not 
know that, though fierce and strong, we are gentle and tender 
with womankind. Therefore, as the Sabines will not willingly 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 313 

give us their maidens, we will by force take them. I will have 
it proclaimed that on a certain day a great feast shall be held, 
outside the city gates, in honor of Neptune. When the priest 
shall end his prayer, seize each one a virgin. But remember 
whoso treats his maiden with aught but kindness shall be severely 
punished." 

When the day for the feast dawned it was clear and bright. 
From every direction the people flocked to see the splendid 
shows. The young came laughing and the older ones smiled to 
see their mirth, while little children skipped from flower to 
flower, chasing bright butterflies and humming sweet bird-like 
songs. Upon a raised platform, above them all, stood the king. 
His long purple robe, embroidered with gold, fell to his feet, and 
his shield gleamed in the sunlight. His face still had upon it 
the same smile which had rested there in babyhood, but his dark 
eyes sparkled more brightly and watched with keener interest 
the people around. 

Not far from the king a beautiful maiden sat ; her dark orbs 
were like stars shining through the misty air, and her low, clear 
laugh sounded like the ripples of a crystal stream. Romulus' 
attention was soon fixed on her. 

Now before the altar the priest in his robes stood, offering a 
white heifer in sacrifice and praying to the god Neptune. At 
last, looking toward the sea, with uplifted hands, he cried and 
said, " O Father ! hear our prayer. God of the sea and son of 
Saturn, we ask of thee help. Give strength unto our limbs and 
courage to our hearts." Just at this moment an eagle flew by 
with a dove in his talons. The Romans, beholding the good 
omen, rushed to seize their prey, and immediately all became 
confusion. The Sabine men fled and the Roman youths bore in 
their arms virgins, even the king had thus won a queen. So 
triumphantly the Romans secured their wives and took them to 
their homes. 

A year went by, during which time many battles had been 
fought between the Romans and the Sabines. Now rumors of 
another battle were floating in the air and all was ready. 



314 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

From the gates of the city the Romans, clad in bright armor, 
were marching, and on the opposite hills the Sabine men, num- 
bers upon numbers, were pouring from the thick woods and over 
the meadows, shouting " revenge, revenge," till the angry winds 
caught up the words and hurled them in the face of their foes. 
The mid-day sun shone pitilessly on the parched earth. The 
warriors paid no heed, but followed dauntlessly their kings; 
closer and closer they drew, until face to face, fathers to sons-in- 
law, brothers to brothers, they stood. With one consent their 
weapons were lifted to strike the first blow — then, like the breath 
of a mournful breeze, a sound of wailing issued from the city, 
and through the gates came the women, the wives of the Romans 
and the daughters of their foes. They cried " Forbear," and 
passing in between the ranks, said, " We are content. O give 
us peace !" and the winds again caught the words and mur- 
mured " peace, peace," while the soldiers' hearts echoed " peace." 
The sweet breath of love blew the heavy clouds of battle far 
away. 

From this time a compact was formed between the two nations 
which joined them in one, and Romulus proved a just and 
upright king. 

In the fourteenth year of his reign he held a council in the 
field of Mars. As evening drew near, the air became close and 
heavy, and the sky was covered with dark clouds, which hung 
over the earth like the veil of night. Low rumblings of thun- 
der sounded in the distance, and bright flashes of lightning 
darted through the air. Soon the wind and the rain came up, 
and the people, terrified, fled, not knowing whither they went, 
leaving the king alone. Lower and lower the clouds descended, 
and darker and darker they grew. The king, unawed, gazed 
into their depths. Like a pall they fell around him, then sud- 
denly, as by magic power, they brightened, until, like a chariot 
of fire, followed by streaks of light, they darted upwards, bear- 
ing the king in their midst. Before them the heavens opened 
and music celestial received Romulus into the regions where 
light perpetual reigns and among the gods immortal. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 315 



SCENES FROM MY WINDOW. 






I am sitting by the west window of my home among the 
mountains this quiet summer evening, and the scene before me is 
bathed in the rosy flush of sunset. 

The surrounding mountains, which tower to kiss the glowing 
sky, are covered with green, and the houses upon them are 
wreathed in vines and trailing flowers. 

Down in the fresh valley little white cottages hover among the 
overlapping trees, and a clear blue river wanders like a shining 
thread through the meadows. On its banks is a merry pic-nic 
party, who, having grown weary of games and dancing, are 
reclining upon the grass. One figure especially attracts my 
attention ; it is a young girl with sad, dreamy eyes and a far- 
away look in their dark depths. Alas ! she is an orphan and 
many miles from home and friends — a governess for the little 
girl near her ; and now standing under the old elm by the water, 
this youthful teacher is doubtless thinking of her once happy 
home in the sunny South, when she had a loving mother and 
fond father to care for her. 

I turn my eyes from this scene to a distant field, in which a 
flock of sheep are quietly grazing, while not far off a little bare- 
foot maiden sits waiting to drive them home. She has her broad- 
brimmed straw hat full of wild flowers, and with her brown 
dimpled hands is twining a wreath to take to mother. When 
it is finished, she gathers up her flowers and drives her sheep 
across the long green field, singing merrily all the way. Now 
she is lost in the distance and the last echo of her song dies upon 
the air. 

Let me look in another direction and see what will meet my 
eye. Here is a tiny brown cot with moss-covered roof and decay- 
ing steps, but I know within all is bright and cheerful. An old 
lady with white hair is sitting in the door knitting, and now and 
then lays down her work, pushes back her spectacles, and folds 



316 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

her hands, looking so peaceful and happy that I wonder if she 
is not thinking of Heaven and the angels. 

Yonder, too, is an orchard, dotted thickly with fruit trees of 
different kinds. High up in the top of an apple tree, two or 
three heads are peeping through the branches, and large red and 
golden apples are showered down by the mischievous little boys 
perched on the limbs, while two white aprons are held up to 
catch some of the beautiful fruit. 

In another direction is a small gray church with a cross over 
the door, and covered with ivy and roses. The church-yard is 
fresh with grass and flowers, and the crosses and slabs which 
mark " God's Acre " gleam pure and white among the green 
shrubs. One little grave has no stone to tell who sleeps beneath, 
but is bright with flowers, placed there by loving hands ; perhaps 
a mother's or a sister's. How restful and quiet everything looks ! 
And now the gate opens; the old and much loved pastor, fol- 
lowed by a group of neighbors, walks slowly down the path and 
enters the church, for evening prayers. Presently the soft notes 
of the organ and lines of the sweet old hymn, "Abide with Me," 
float gently through the evening air. The sun has hidden his 
glorious splendor behind the gray mountains, and the whippoor- 
wills and bats begin to fly about. Twilight shadows deepen 
until the world is wrapped in darkness. 



"VESTIGIA NULLA RETRORSUM." 



A June morning still and bright, its warm sunshine flooding 
the quiet beauty of an English landscape. A broad and level 
stretch of country, reaching back to where a purple mist veils 
the distant hills. A country rich in orchards and fields of wav- 
ing grain and striped with hedges of deepest green, with here 
and there a sunny meadow, the dew yet glistening on its daisies. 
In the distance a wooden arch crosses the sparkling waters of a 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 317 

slowly gliding stream. Far up the road appears a moving cloud 
of dust, borne swiftly forward as by an approaching storm. Soon 
on the narrow bridge the furious beat of horses' hoofs is heard. 
A body of Royalist cavalry sweep into sight, thundering on 
before the hot pursuit of a band of Puritan soldiers. The fierce 
race ends on the field of Chalgrove, where the Royalists, over- 
taken, face their pursuers. A pause, a rapid glance between the 
hostile parties. Confronting the Puritans the cavaliers, in gay, 
picturesque dress, with waving plumes and flowing lovelocks, 
their dashing, fearless air mingled now with stern defiance; 
facing the Royalists, the sombre array of Puritan soldiers. In 
the foremost ranks of these, conspicuous in their green uni- 
forms, a little band of men, whose look of determined 
bravery augurs a sharp struggle. Their green banner displays 
to the enemy the motto of their leader, " Vestigia nulla retror- 
mm"; to the Puritans, the watch-word which is the secret of 
their calm fearlessness. Now on the stillness break the sounds 
of war, the clash of steel, the deafening roar of musketry. In 
the hottest of the strife, a sudden confusion appears in the Puri- 
tan ranks. Hampden, their commander, is wounded. Filled 
with grief and consternation, his soldiers fight with flagging 
spirits, soon give way and the Royalists escape. 

Out of the din and tumult wearily moves the drooping soli- 
tary figure of the wounded leader. Soon in a neighboring vil- 
lage, friendly walls shelter the exhausted sufferer. The end 
approaches ; the shadows of death are gathering over features 
strong and calm in their great patience. Broken prayers reveal 
his anxious care for his afflicted country, and sad and tender 
thoughts of absent loved ones. Then without fear or regret, the 
noble spirit passing outward, from friends whose deep love and 
grief follow it with passionate, helpless, longing, crosses the 
bounds of the glorious life beyond. 

"No backward steps." Nobly did the life of this man illus- 
trate his guiding principle. In the troubled times before the 
long threatening storm of rebellion broke upon England, in all 
the horrors of civil war, Hampden, when possible, exercised his 



318 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

great influence to effect a reconciliation between the Crown and 
Parliament. But with all his desire for peace he would never 
consent to the smallest compromise with injustice, whatever 
might be the reward of compliance or the consequences of refusal. 
When war was at last declared he devoted all his energies to the 
cause he had embraced, with the inflexible resolution of a soul 
conscious of a just and noble purpose, swayed by no motive of 
self-interest. Not from his standard alone gleamed the motto he 
had chosen; all his life bore out its strong and earnest purpose. 
" Vestigia nulla retrorsum " shone in his penetrating eye, in the 
quiet strength of his gentle and courteous bearing, in every 
action of council or field. The army boasted no more fearless 
and determined leader until the day when his part in the struggle 
ceased, as he fell nobly fighting under the banner he had honored 
with steadfast truth, had marred by no backward steps of inde- 
cision or weak and selfish parleying with wrong. 

" Vestigia nulla retrorsum." Our hearts are thrilling with 
those words of high resolve. We long to emulate the fearless 
zeal for right, the strong determination of the hero who followed 
with such unwavering loyalty the banner whence they shine. 
We too would fain follow it in every just and noble cause. But 
as with kindling ardor we look upon the floating folds, a sudden 
breeze sweeping through them reveals the other side, and the 
writing, " God with us." Now looking upon our standard, com- 
prehending all its meaning, our eager eyes grow more earnest, 
and we see that before we had known but one side of the picture, 
had thought only of the fearless deeds and unwavering resolve 
to which the motto would excite us, forgetful of the principle 
which is its only strength. " No backward steps," we may cry 
with full hope and courage while on our standard gleam the 
words, " God with us" ; but that legend once lost, the motto 
would become a mournful warning of defeat and ruin. 

" Vestigia nulla retrorsum." A new, deep meaning in the 
words comes to us with almost startling power. We are outward 
bound, swept toward the infinite by the passing years with a 
force silent and resistless as the wind blowing; over some vast 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 319 

treeless plain. At first this onward moving is so smooth, so 
gentle, that we do not feel it ; then, 

" We doubt not of changes, we know not of spaces, 
The heavens seem as near as our own Mother's face is." 

We are happy like the flowers in to-day's warm sunshine, taking- 
no more thought than they for the morrow. But as the golden 
portal of each day's sunrise opens to us, the outward view is 
wider than before. Soon our pulses bound with the quickening 
motion, the wind blows fresh and strong in our faces as we hasten 
on. The heavens are higher ; far above and before us burn the 
stars, like lamps, to light us onward and upward. Broad and 
fair extends the surrounding landscape, in the distance varied and 
enchanting scenes arise, "apparelled in celestial light" of hope 
and longing. " O Life, O Beyond, thou art strange ; thou art 
sweet !" 

We hurry on unceasingly " who daily farther from the East 
must travel," over mountain and valley, rugged and weary road 
or smiling meadow. Now as the silent gate of each day's sunset 
closes behind us forever, the space between it and the next seems 
always narrower, more swiftly passed. The distant scenes are 
hidden, but the translucent mist before them is flushed with the 
brightness it'veils. We lift our eyes as night comes on to the 
heavens bending above us, vast and silent, like a dome inscribed 
with mystic, burning characters of stars. Looking upon those 
glowing signs, we dream that they record the glory and the mys- 
tery of the infinite, which we may not read till Death, our Daniel, 
interprets for us that writing on the wall. 

Of this onward moving all living things in nature " do the 
same tale repeat." Here in a cluster of roses is a bud just burst- 
ing into beauty beside a full blown flower. Half hidden under 
the open blossom gleams the ripening seed vessel of another, 
which, flushing into glossy redness, keeps in its glowing vase the 
germ of future roses. A frightened chirp comes from the soft 
springing grass at the foot of the rose tree. A half-fledged nest- 
ling has deserted the swaying cradle on the branch above. 
5 



320 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Another, balancing himself on the edge of the nest, peeps doubt- 
fully at the great world outside, while the parent birds urge on 
the progress of their young adventurers with cries of delighted 
encouragement. Now the last timid fledgeling, spreading his 
wings for one bold effort, lights, quivering with joy and fear, on 
a neighboring tree. 

We, too, have set our faces toward our onward journey, going 
out hopefully, eagerly, to meet its toil and strife, its dangers, its 
unknown possibilities of achievement. But a sudden thought 
makes us pause for a parting glance over the safe and pleasant 
road along which we have come so far on our journey. Bathed 
in the sunlight of sweet and tender memories, the low green val- 
ley of our childhood lies behind us. Leading out from its gentle 
brightness are paths which wind over rising ground. Catching 
glimpses from this slight eminence of openings through the trees, 
our first vague desire awakened for the new and unknown scenes 
thus suggested. Here the way grew more difficult, as we first 
began to learn of duties to be done, of restraints which kept us 
in beaten paths, no longer straying where we would. All those 
roughnesses are forgotten now, our eyes lovingly lingering over 
each familiar scene, grow dim, as back upon our hearts comes, 
like a farewell sigh, the echo of our own words, " Vestigia nulla 
retrorsum" Still, our backward glances are not those of exiles 
toward a lost home, but of travellers over the first steps of a long 
journey. 

While our steps are governed by honest, earnest purpose, the 
way leads ever to broader, higher planes of thought and action. 
If we travel, having no end in view, we may perchance reach 
some heights, some fair and pleasant scenes, but oftener will 
wander, bewildered and distressed, among rugged roads, from 
•which no escape is visible, except it may be into greater terrors. 
It is useless to imagine ourselves on the way to some desired end 
because of vague intentions to reach that end ; every onward, 
upward step must be gained by patient work and steady purpose. 
Often it may seem to us that we make but little, if any, progress ; 
that we are leaving all undone the work laid out for us. But it 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 321 

may be that at such times we go forward with swifter, surer steps 
than ever before. In the silence of absolute rest, the crystal, 
taking from the earth its own elements, shapes them in "nature's 
geometric signs." At last the tine and delicate perfection of its 
polished facets reveals the steady purpose of its growth. Here is 
an amethyst which has kept, in forming, its symmetry un marred, 
its purity unalloyed. Freed at last from the darkness, note its 
unclouded beauty, as the sunbeam glancing through its burnished 
surface lights an etherial flame in the varying purple which, like 
the very spirit of joy and triumph, trembles through the whole. 
But see the result of flagging purpose in the crystal lying near. 
At one end regular and polished sides indicate a fair beginning. 
Thence it has gone on aimlessly, building up a lustreless, uneven 
mass, one part overgrown, another flat and crumbling. Here 
and there, through the purple, brown, unsightly streaks show 
how the crystal has allowed dark veins of earth to cloud its 
purity. 

The dangers of our journey must be conquered by steadfast 
courage, not by heroic impulses; its difficulties overcome by the 
strong will and endeavor. Would we set our feet on mountain 
tops, it can only be after patient, and oftimes weary, climbing. 
But how majestic the view which bursts upon us, the summit 
once gained ! We scarcely see the obstacles which made the 
ascent so difficult, and very low and insignificant appear the hills 
with which we were once content. Suddenly the shadow of the 
towering mountain behind us spreading downward, "till all the 
glens are drowned in azure gloom," veils our height. As we 
look upward sunlit peak on peak rises far through the clear, 
pure atmosphere. There are heights to which we may in time 
attain ; summits above them, which we can never reach. So 
with the patient labor, the steady, earnest purpose which every 
upward step demands, we gain the added strength of humility 
by which we think but slightly of all that is behind, looking 
upward to the things to be attained. 

Whatever good we fail to gather in our progress we may not 
go back to seek. Remaining possibilities may be grasped, and 



322 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the lost thus seemingly regained, but it is only seemingly. The 
golden opportunities which pass neglected can never be recalled. 
One lily bell lifts its fragrant chalice to receive the evening dews, 
another listlessly droops toward the ground. On the morrow, 
one guarding the dew-drop deep in its golden heart, keeps its fresh 
purity unchanged through the sultry hours ; the other hangs 
faded on its stalk, withered before the noon. See this half 
ripened cluster, which, long hidden under overhanging foliage, 
has at last pushed itself out into the sunshine. Its growth was 
deprived of its essential light and heat. But stunted and imper- 
fect as it is, its berries here and there are warming into deeper 
color. It may yet ripen into some use and beauty. Near this 
cluster hangs another, full, ripe, and perfect : as its rich purple 
deepens in the sunshine, at once we realize how impossible it is 
for its dwarfed and starved companion to recover what it has lost. 
So in our journey no step can be retraced, whether we pass in 
blind carelessness through bright possibilities or walk alert and 
vigorous, neglecting no good that may be in our way. 

"Vestigia nulla retrorsum" The motto has a stirring sound, 
full of a strong and hopeful spirit. But listening closely, we may 
hear a note of warning in the words. Onward we must go 
unceasingly • upward we may. There are two roads in our jour- 
ney, and though we see but a little way ahead through the envel- 
oping mists of each, we can discern that one tends ever upward. 
Here and there, piercing the veil, we see the sunlit crests of lofty 
"mountain heights, their grand outlines looming up vast and indis- 
tinct before us. It is ours to choose the upward path, ours to 
press forward along the way, often steep and rugged, which leads 
to we' know not what summit of joy and triumph. But no 
necessity compels our choice ; we are free to tread the other road, 
leading onward through the shadows to its unknown end. The 
scenes through which its travellers must pass are hidden, but we 
see that it leads steadily away from the path to which our highest 
and noblest aspirations would direct us, and we know that no 
backward steps are taken on either road. • Vestigia nulla retroi'sum.' 
Ever may the warning guide us, the earnest, fearless teaching 
make all our way a journey " up the steep which leads to God." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 323 



ONE OF EARTH'S VOICES. 



In the Greek mythology we are told, that when the great 
division of the universe was made by Zeus, the empire of the sea 
was given to Neptune. Seated in his coral caves, he ruled supreme. 
At a wave from his mighty trident, the spirits flew to rouse the 
waters of the sea. Huge billows raised their angry heads above 
the cliffs, and plunging forward, spread destruction far and wide. 
The ships which sailed unconscious of their danger are suddenly 
dashed to pieces on the rocks. The sea is strewn with spoils, and 
with the noise of the waves are mingled the sounds of woe, 
wrung from those who dreamed not of their fate till it o'ercame 
them. At this the storm grows fiercer; the angry sea laughs at 
the chaos it has created, and seems about to burst all bounds, and 
fill the earth with universal ruin. But look ! Another motion 
from the sceptred king, and all is still. The winds roll back, 
and muttering fierce threats, withdraw to caves below the sea, 
there to wait another order from their reckless* king. 

In the conception of Neptune, the Greeks personified the 
water of the universe. 

Homer speaks of storms as raised by the anger of this deity;, 
and in the fierce waves, and white, wind-scattered surf, which 
wrecked the frail raft of the brave Ulysses, he sees the sea-god, 
driving his fiery steeds, with flowing manes ; while when the 
storm subsides and billows cease to roll, he sees the mighty Nep- 
tune lulled by the music of the waves to gentler passions. 

Thus, to the ancients, the sea was a god, possessing powers, 
passions and feelings, a being whom they devoutly worshipped. 

Go to the shores of the ocean and watch its mighty billows 
rise and fall ; dashing the white spray hither and thither with a 
force. almost incredible. See its noble works. Think of it reign- 
ing supreme over the face of the earth, hewing the hard rocks 
into shape, chiselling the mountains, smoothing the valleys; 
unlimited monarch of all, yet at the first sound of His voice, 



324 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

" Who made the sea, and all that therein is," with meek sub- 
mission withdrawing to one place, that the dry land might 
appear. Then with loving tenderness it builds a blue wall about 
the earth, and sends forth its ministering spirits, the clouds, the 
streams and the brooklets, to refresh and beautify it. 

The waters peopled by the Greeks with creatures of fancy were 
those which now surround us. The same sea which bears our 
richly laden fleets carried the brave Argonauts to Colchis. The 
sea which heard the thunder of the war between the gods and 
Titans now listens to the peaceful murmur of the winds, as they 
rustle through the leafy trees on Pelion ; and the same blue 
waves which hearkened to the counsels of the gods in the days of 
Homer still turn their faces to Mt. Olympus. 

Are not the ever changing features of these mighty waters 
enough to inspire all beholders with awe and reverence? Is it 
strange that the ancients believed water to have a personality and 
life of its own ? that the Greeks, who knew not the one true God, 
Whose footsteps are in the deep, Whose smile is in the rainbow, 
should, in seeking a knowledge of Him, invest different parts of 
His creation with 'His attributes? should worship expressions of 
His force and bow before the beauty of His creation ? 

At a later period the imagination of the Germans has peopled 
the waters with Mermaids, Undines and Nixes, of whose happy 
life in the clear lakes and fountains we love to dream. ' 

It were easy to fancy Kuhleborn seated on his mighty throne, 
surrounded by vassals and holding his iron sway over the inhab- 
itants of the deep ; and in the fresh stream, winding gracefully 
around a quiet, moss-covered grave, to recognize Undine, with 
her snowy arms, encircling the resting-place of her much loved 
knight. 

Finding ourselves in an old forest, among the woodland water- 
falls and streams, we might readily imagine the spirit of the 
fountain rising up to dispute our passage through the woods ; or 
fancy the voices of water-sprites sounding in the ripple of the 
brooks; but would no other thought come to our minds? Do. 
we see no more in the water of the universe than fancy has por- 



.ST. MARY'S MUSE. 325 

trayed ? Speaks it no more to us than it did to the Greeks ? It 
inspired awe and fear in them ; should it not call forth higher 
praise from us ? To them it spoke only of the power of a god ; 
to us, its every form, from the grand old sea which sculptured 
continent and island, to the smallest dew-drop that feeds the vio- 
let and sparkles in its bosom, bears a message of love from the 
God and Father of all. It speaks of the work to be done, of the 
trials by all to be borne, and by example teaches many sweet 
lessons. It is one of the innumerable blessings with which God 
has surrounded His children, and it is the only visible thing 
which, since the creation of the world, has undergone no change. 
The mountains have been laid low, and the hills have become as 
nothing, but what can change the sea ? 

It has been said that man is master of the world, but this is 
true only when we except the sea. How beautifully Byron has 
expressed this thought in his " Apostrophe to the Ocean" : 

" Man marks the earth with ruin, his control 
Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plains, 
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
When for a moment, like a drop of rain, 
He sinks into thy depth with bubbling groan, 
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown." 

While thus changeless in itself, there is nothing which has 
wrought so many changes on surrounding objects. It would be 
difficult to find a single spot where water has not left its mark. 
The highest mountains bear the impress of its touch ; and when 
it withdrew from their lofty peaks, it left in the shells and corals 
many tokens of its visit. 

It has, in its different forms, done more to promote the growth 
and commerce of nations than any other agent. 

The old sea bears on its trackless bosom thousands of vessels, 
richly laden with the produce of every clime. In the form of 
steam, water propels the great engines made use of to further 
domestic manufactures and trade. 



326 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

The vapour rising from the sea carries with it heat to the 
regions where its airy chariot would only bring cold. 

In the dead of winter, when the birds have flown, and the buds 
and flowers are afraid to show their pretty heads, the snow 
descends, and with tender arms folds the earth in its embrace, 
wraps the roots of flower, tree and grain in its ermine shroud, 
and there keeps them warm and alive till spring, when, freeing 
them from its embrace, it leaves them for awhile, but soon after 
returns in the fresh spring showers to feed its little nurslings of 
the winter. 

The rivers, too, are not mere highways for man's convenience. 
But for the Nile, Egypt would be as barren as the Great Desert 
of Sahara. The blue stream in its early course among the hills 
of Abyssinia gathers into the waters all the minerals which, being 
deposited by its yearly overflow, feed the luxuriant vegetation of 
its valley. 

By affording convenient means of commerce and trade it 
increases the size and beauty of all cities which rear their walls 
above its banks ; while, as it keeps the surrounding atmosphere 
moist and pleasant, it may be considered the fountain of health 
to the Egyptians. Well might they keep their harvest feast. 

When the sun's rays shine upon the world, warming and invig- 
orating all life, they heat the surface of the sea, enticing the 
water to leave its early home. For a long time it refuses, but at 
last kissed by the sun into vapour, it extends its hands, with 
simple trust, and goes bravely forth to new duties. It is borne 
high up, over hills and mountains, towards the polar regions, and 
at last, chilled and expanded, it descends on the mountains as 
snow. 

Though it has gone through many trials, and many more await 
it, it never falters, but is true to its work ; yes, and to itself, for 
look ! each little crystal is perfect ; not a flaw can be found in 
the least of the six-sided stars. 

You crystal flakes, that fly so swiftly to the earth, covering 
and making beautiful the brown hills with your ermine robe, 
going to your appointed task so cheerfully, do you never complain 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 327 

of having to leave your early home and the companions of your 
youth ? " God sent us," whispers a snow-flake, as it nestles gently 
among its companions, on a sharp, bare peak of the hill. " It is 
true we longed to remain in our childhood's home, but so many 
sunbeams wooed us and told us of the work to be done for our 
Father, that at last our silly fears vanished, and we are come to 
work here for a time, then to return to our home in the sea." 

Does the long imprisonment in the mountain avalanche never 
overcome your patience? Does it not pain you to think you are 
bound? Why do you sparkle and glisten in the sunlight as 
pleasantly as if you were free ? 

But the snow refuses to answer ; only sparkles more brightly. 
and seems trying to dazzle our eyes for putting such thoughts 
into its head. 

Imprisoned in the avalanche, it must remain till spring, when 
its hold on the mountain becoming loosened, it again changes its 
home. Now we think it must complain, for though avalanche 
was bad enough, the glacier into which it has passed is infinitely 
worse. It has not even the attraction of being smooth, but rises 
up here and there in rough, jagged and sharp pointed peaks, yet 
from each peak and point, little star crystals flash as brightly as 
the smoothest snow on the mountain above ; aye, it is even hap- 
pier than in the avalanche, for when the sun shines on the long 
icicles and sparkling spears, each reflects " God's promise," the 
rainbow. 

Here the water must remain perhaps for ages. That is, the 
great heart of the glacier must wait, but from time to time it 
sends forth messengers of love in the little streams which flow 
from it, each taking the path traced and appointed at the creation 
of the world. They have been so patient through their long 
bondage, and now it is through obedient trust that they are freed. 
For it is the dark, or heat rays of the sun which bid the glacier 
forth ; through them it gains its eternal home, and as it journeys 
like an angel it blesses the valley through which it winds. 

Much of the glacier is detained in its journey by the burden 
which it is forced to bear. Great masses of debris sometimes 
6 



328 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

fasten themselves upon the ice and, by intercepting the heat, 
prevent it from melting ; yet it bears the burden cheerfully and 
fulfills its duty in waiting. 

But let us follow one of the little messenger streams which 
leaves the glaciers. Hurrying on towards the ocean, it never 
complains of the length of its journey, but, with a light heart 
and strong will, works on, overcoming each difficulty as it pre- 
sents itself. Not one, but many of these little streams start off 
joyful and happy at being released. They chatter and dance and 
sparkle as if their very life depended on expressing their joy in 
every possible way. In this merry mood, if the rocks of the 
hill-side come in their path they skip over them and dance along 
as gaily as before, but in their quieter moments, when the rock 
presents itself, the little stream divides and passes quietly by, as 
if too busy with its thoughts to play. The mountain travellers 
often stop to drink their clear waters, and nightly they are visited 
by herds of timid deer. They never become tired or dull, always 
keeping up a merry chatter among themselves. 

Perhaps, by and by one becomes separated from its companions 
and takes its course through the shady forest, where no traveller 
ever comes to slake his thirst, and where it has no little com- 
panions to gossip with. But though it is sometimes very lonely 
it makes the most of its situation, while it amuses itself by playing 
with the sunbeams and by running in and out among the bushes 
and vines growing along its banks. It freshens the mosses and 
ferns and feeds the large lilies which spread their broad leaves on 
its surface. It answers the songs of the little birds with a low, 
sweet voice, and whispers soft words to the willows. 

Only once during the year does its little tongue cease to chatter. 
Then to all outward appearances it is cold and dead ; but let us 
take a peep beneath the hard surface of ice which holds it like a 
shroud. Cold it may be, but dead nor idle it is not. 

• 
"The little brooklet has built a roof, 
'Neath which he can house him, winter-proof. 
All night, by the white stars' frosty gleams, 
He has groined his arches and matched his beams ; 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 329 

Slender and clear are his crystal spars, 

As the lashes of light that trim the stars : 

He has sculptured every summer delight, 

In his halls and chambers out of sight. 

Sometimes his tinkling waters slipt 

Down through a frost-leaved forest crypt. 

Long sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees 

Bending, to counterfeit a breeze. 

Sometimes the roof no fret-work knew 

But silvery mosses, that downward grew ; 

Sometimes it was carved in sharp relief, 

With quaint arabesque of infern leaf; 

Sometimes it was simply smooth and clear 

For the gladness of heaven to shine through, and here 

He had caught the nodding bulrush tops 

And hung them thickly with diamond drops, 

Which crystalled the beams of morn and sun, 

And made a star of every one : 

No mortal builder's rare device 

Could match this winter palace of ice. 

'Twas as if every image that, mirrored, lay 

In his depths serene, through the summer day, 

Each flitting shadow of earth and sky, 

Lest the happy model should be lost, 

Had been mimicked in fairy masonry 

By the elfin builders of the frost." 

But when the bright spring days come again the little brook's 
tongue is loosed from cold, and again begins its prattle. 

As a reward for its patience, it finally meets a larger stream, a 
river, which, like itself, is hurrying on to the ocean ; perhaps 
one of those from which it parted in the mountain. Then, with 
a joyful whirl and a louder murmur of happiness, the two streams 
unite their waters and continue their travels as one. 

Not only is water the most useful of all the agents of the earth, 
but it is the most beautiful. The pictures made by the ocean in 
its different phases have passed as magic scenes before our 
enchanted gaze. We have seen the smooth surface, stirred by 
no breeze, and reflecting all that passed on its glassy face. Again 
the angry winds have lashed the waters till they rose and fell in 
huge, white-capped billows. At night, we have seen their bril- 



330 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

liant phosphorescent sparkle, and were obliged to assure ourselves 
that the starry hosts in the blue above had not changed their 
places, 

" For every wave with its dimpled face, 
That leaped upon the ajfr, 
Had caught a star in its embrace 
And held it trembling there." 

Water is beautiful not only in the great sea, but in all its forms. 
Even the smallest brooklet possesses some charm, and we can see 
in it, as in the broadest stream, the clear sky and the drifting 
clouds above us. 

Perhaps the most beautiful form in which water presents itself 
to our view is in the clouds. There it comes as a mediator 
between the fierce sun and the earth ; and the clouds, grouping 
their shadowy forms near the horizon, seem enveloping the world 
with a robe of exquisite beauty. 

No two clouds which pass across the sky are alike, yet each is 
perfect in symmetry and grace, and their variety furnishes us 
with endless pleasure. Some seem to rise as dark watch-towers 
in the sky, while others float gracefully along, blown hither and 
thither by the wind, yet ever reflecting the light of the sun. 
Others are so far away as to appear like silver threads in the blue 
above. Some rest on the top of the mountain, and seem like 
ministering angels, caressing and comforting the bare old hill, 
pitying it in its loneliness and captivity, as it must ever remain 
chained fast to the earth. They hover lovingly about its crest, 
and when the sunbeams play across their face, touching them 
here and there, they seem like a halo of glory, beautifying and 
illuminating the rugged peaks. Near sunset, the higher clouds 
disappear or cluster together near the horizon, forming often 
beautiful pictures, as the sun, with its fading light, gilds their 
edges. 

It seems sometimes as if the curtain were lifted from before 
our eyes and we were permitted to get a glimpse of another world. 
We see a city paved with gold, about which float innumerable 
bright forms, whose every motion seems prompted by love and 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 331 

happiness; it is all so beautiful we long to cross the land of the 
skies; but as we gaze, see ! it fades from our sight. Now a broad 
river comes between us, full of shoals and rocks, and then both 
river and city fade away, as the sun sinks below the horizon. 

Even then the clouds do not desert us, but, wafted by every 
breeze, they seem playing bopeep with the moon and the stars. 
Thus they amuse themselves till morn appears, and they begin 
again their works of love. As they pass lightly over our heads, 
we can almost hear them sing their morning hymn: 

" We bring fresh showers for the thirsty flowers, 
For the seas and the streams ; 
We bear light shades for the leaves when laid 
In their noonday dreams ; 

From our wings are shaken the dews that waken 
The sweet buds, every one, 
When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, 
As she dances about the sun." 

Then a soft wind rises and wafts the little clouds so far away 
that the end of the song is lost in the murmur of the breeze. 

Thus in its varied forms water fills its appointed place in the 
economy of nature, ever ministering to the comfort and happiness 
of man and to the glory of God. 

It speaks to us in the sublimity of the ocean, in the grandeur 
of the glacier, in the beauty of the cloud, and in the lovely hues 
of the rainbow, which binds our earth to heaven. Its voice is 
one grand hymn, the glad refrain, which has been, is, and ever 
shall be sung throughout creation — 

O ve seas and floods, bless ve the Lord : 

w 
O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord ; praise 

Him and magnify him forever. 



VALEDICTORIES. 

And now, for those daughters of St. Mary's who to-day must 
leave the protecting walls of our "Alma Mater," I am to say 
good-bye. 



332 ST. MARY'S MUSE, 

And first, to you, our Rector and friend, do we tender our 
thanks for the kindness and fatherly care with which you have 
ever surrounded us. Your efforts to promote both our spiritual 
and temporal welfare have never ceased, and should the lives for 
which you have striven so earnestly fall short in any way, then 
must the fault be ours. 

God grant that we may ever grow towards that true and gentle 
womanhood, whose ideal you have constantly placed before us. 

Though to-day we must leave St. Mary's, we can never cease 
to be her daughters, and we ask that among your pleasant thoughts 
and in your prayers, the class of '81 may always find a place. 

Dear Pastor, we bid you an affectionate farewell. 

Then to our dear Lady Principal, whose tender care has so 
cheered our homesick and desponding hearts in those moments 
which come often to school-girls, to you, who indeed have 
mothered us, we give a loving good-bye. How can we ever thank 
you for those tender offices so gently rendered each of us; those 
whispered words of comfort, which cheered us in all our tasks, 
and sweetened the cup of our pleasures. Fondly will our hearts 
cling to you, and the sweet instructions given by your voice shall 
be treasured among the most sacred mementos of the past. 

What you have been to us and to all who have been entrusted 
to your care, we can never tell you ; ever will the loving wishes 
of your daughters follow you. May God bless our dear Mother, 
and through a long life surround her with the fruits of those 
blessings which she has so plentifully bestowed on others. 

Next, to you, our kind teachers, we offer our sincere thanks 
for all your loving interest and for the useful lessons taught both 
by precept and example. For your patience when we have fallen 
short of the mark to which you have tried to raise us, and for 
your sweet words of encouragement. Lovingly, we bid you fare- 
well. 

And now last, a few words to our dear sister school-mates. For 
the rest of the short time which is given us together, we must 
not dwell on the sadness of parting, but on the pleasures of the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 333 

past. Let us recall all those pleasant scenes of the happy days 
gone by. 

And especially do we address those of our fellow-students who 
are about to succeed the class of '81. 

To-day we are to resign to you our class banner, and in resign- 
ing it, we charge you to guard the honor and purity of its fair 
folds. Take it, dear friends, and with whatever motto you may 
bear it, let ours, " Vestigia nulla retrorsum," be to you a watch- 
word. And may you in due time give the sacred trust to your 
successors with as full confidence as we now consign it to you. 

To Pastor, Mother, Teachers and School-mates, we give a lov- 
ing good-bye, a "God be wi' you." 



ANCIENT AND MODERN ELOQUENCE. 



Eloquence, one of the richest gifts with which man is endowed, 
has ever been a theme of greatest interest. 

In pursuing our studies we soon find a great difference between 
ancient and modern eloquence. Eager to learn more about 
modern eloquence as compared with the ancient, we begin the 
tedious work of tracing the causes of difference. Greece, the 
mother of eloquence and art, as well as the birth-place of Demos- 
thenes, the prince of orators, must first claim our attention. The 
eloquence of the Greeks furnishes us one of the most interesting 
subjects connected with their history. Some think the mighty 
influence of the oratory which once shook democracies far supe- 
rior to that of modern times, and say it is impossible for it to 
return. Many contend that the genius required to produce this 
eloquence was much greater with the ancients. Others deny this, 
asserting that moderns are mentally equal to Greeks or Romans, 
the circumstances under which eloquence is now called forth 
making it differ more in kind than degree ; they maintain that 
the age makes the man, not man the age. 



334 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Let us look at some of the most prominent causes of difference. 
First, the theatres. These, at the time when Grecian elo- 
quence had reached its zenith, were immense stone buildings, 
erected at the expense of the public and used for various pur- 
poses, for the drama, for the Olympic games, and often for the 
Grecian courts, while even the legislative bodies sometimes 
gathered within their walls to discuss political questions. When- 
ever the public assembly met, it drew people from all parts of 
the country, and excited the greatest interest from the lowest as 
well as the highest citizen. All these assemblies were of a popu- 
lar character, and thus furnished the orator with a broad field 
for the display of eloquence. The theatres and public assemblies 
being free for all, large crowds attended on every occasion. Es- 
pecially when an orator like Pericles, and later when Demosthenes 
was about to speak, men flocked to Athens from the most remote 
parts of Greece, and listened with as much attention as if wit- 
nessing some grand spectacle. 

Modern theatres are much smaller, and not being free to the 
public, the poorer classes are denied the educating and refining 
influence which the ancients received from this source. The 
theatre of to-day affords only the wealthy few an opportunity 
for cultivating their taste. The legislative bodies never meet in 
modern theatres, hence there is no chance for the soul-stirring 
eloquence called forth by the questions of the day. 

The actor is often eloquent, but he appeals mostly to the im- 
agination and deals in the past. He never touches upon the 
topics of the day except to ridicule. The legislative assemblies, 
too, are of a different character. They are divided into two 
deliberative bodies, which in many cases must be less attractive, 
for men saunter about places of political speakings during debates 
of the most important character with a careless and indifferent 
air. Many hardly think the eloquence of the best orator suffi- 
cient compensation for the loss of a dinner. This indifference 
on the part of the people must weaken the orator, and he often 
becomes careless and indifferent too. 

This was not the case in ancient times; the orator well knew 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 335 

the earnest and critical character of his audience, and felt the 
awful responsibility resting upon him ; therefore, he laboriously 
prepared himself to appear before the powerful and wavering 
multitude, which was alternately slave or tyrant ; now, the passive 
instrument of a demagogue, then, the wheel of a powerful engine, 
recoiling back to crush the hand that first aspired to direct it. ' 

To rouse the passions was the first object of an ancient orator ; 
this accomplished, he could sway the multitude at will. He well 
knew that decisions would be given under the impulse of the 
moment; just as they thought, so would they act. He aimed at 
impassioned eloquence on all occasions, but especially in cases 
brought before the courts, then he always addressed himself to 
the judge and jurors, for to bring them into the same channel of 
thought as himself, was to gain the victory and an immediate 
pardon for the accused. One man with a thorough knowledge of 
human nature, a clear, distinct expression, and an untiring per- 
severance, often had more power than a king, surrounded by his 
thousands. Philip, in his conquest of Greece, feared Demos- 
thenes more than all his foes, and well he might, for Demos- 
thenes, by his eloquence, stirred the whole Greek nation against 
him, and for a while saved Greece from impending ruin. 

In modern times we have no such quick decisions ; questions 
are debated for weeks, months, and even years, as in the case of 
Warren Hastings. The indictment was read before one gen- 
eration and the verdict before another. The very long speeches 
of modern days have little more effect than to spin out the time 
and give parties an opportunity to compromise. 

The Athenian assemblies were composed alike of the rich and 
poor, the vulgar and refined, which leads many to think them 
inferior in taste to the Roman Senate or British Parliament. This, 
however, was not the case; for, although a mixed assembly, 
strange to say, their taste was perfect almost to a fault. Never 
did orators appear before so critical an audience as that of Athens. 
Demosthenes himself failed several times, by making a mistake 
which would not have been noticed by any but an Athenian 
7 



336 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Assembly. He was once hooted off the stage for placing the 
accent on the wrong syllable. 

But how came these ignorant Greeks with this refined taste for 
eloquence? many will ask. A glance back at the history of 
Greece will show. * The troubles between Greece and her allied 
colonies, and wars with other countries from the earliest times, 
called forth much debating, and as the ancients had no way of 
conveying news, multitudes gathered from all parts of Greece to 
hear it from the best speaker. The orator, knowing the character 
of his audience, felt the necessity of careful preparation before 
delivery. These well-prepared orations so cultivated and refined 
the Greek taste that it has been compared to Italian taste for 
music ; bad music to an Italian is not only unpleasant, but pain- 
ful ; so were bad language and indistinct pronunciation to the 
Greek. Demosthenes was extremely careful in the construction 
of his sentences and the pronunciation of his words. His speeches 
were condensed and without repetition, save to make some idea 
more forcible. He never lagged, but led his audience step by 
step along the strong, beautiful line of thought, holding them 
spell-bound until he saw that he had gained his point. No won- 
der, then, at the immense labor of Grecian orators before appear- 
ing in public. The nicely formed sentences, the beautiful lan- 
guage, the clear and pure tone, all indicate untiring labor, not the 
suggestion of a moment. Never did orators labor more patiently 
and perseveringly than Demosthenes and Cicero. Demosthenes, 
it is said, had built for himself a little vault under ground, and 
there, buried, by the light of a small lamp pursued his studies. 
Ten times he wrote and rewrote those eloquent orations which 
so stirred the Greek nation, and from his time to the present have 
fired the souls of ambitious youth to become useful and great. 
The delivery and gestures of Demosthenes, we are told, were at 
first very imperfect. His voice was effeminate and an impedi- 
ment in his speech rendered it difficult for him to be understood. 
His voice was greatly strengthened by declaiming aloud on the 
sea-shore, his stammering overcome by practicing with pebbles 
in his mouth, and he cured himself of an awkward habit of 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 337 

shrugging his shoulders by suspending a heavy sword from it, 
while, to perfect himself in gesture, he practiced before a mirror. 
The labors of Cicero were equally great, but he never had the 
physical defects to overcome with which Demosthenes had to con- 
tend. 

The two greatest orators the world has ever known were the 
most untiring workers, thus setting an example to aspirants for 
fame in modern times, who, it is feared, imagine themselves 
modern Demosthenes' and Ciceros, regardless of the great labor 
required for even these old masters to produce such eloquence. 
The royal prize is only won by untiring energy. Those who 
would travel the rugged path to fame must remember, 

" For sluggards how the laurel never grows, 
Renown is not the child of indolent repose." 

Another cause of difference between ancient and modern elo- 
quence lies in the comparatively few laws of ancient times. 
Cicero tells us that he could make himself acquainted with the 
whole Roman code in three months and the laws of Greece in 
three days. In proportion as the laws are few in number, the 
judicial power, wherever it is vested, becomes more important, 
for in absence of laws the judge is left to decide the cases accord- 
ing to his own judgment. In such cases the orator may not 
only address himself to the understanding of the judge, but may 
appeal to his feelings. In modern times we find a law for almost 
every case, consequently the lawyer is forced to show the appli- 
cation of each law, and every attempt to rouse the passions is 
viewed with distrust. 

Not only were the laws of ancient times few, compared with 
those of to-day, but they were often set aside or used only as tools 
in the hands of the orator. The Greeks cared little for the jus- 
tice shown to individuals; the State was their sole interest, the 
popular vote their greatest law, and this vote condemned or 
acquitted, according to the feeling of the people. On one occasion 
six commanders were charged with having neglected the wounded 
after battle. Each should have had his separate trial, but, 



338 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

regardless of justice due the individual, the Greeks only thought 
of the injury done the State, and voted all should be tried to- 
gether. There is, in the case of Socrates, the same non-appli- 
cation of laws. He was brought before the court, charged with 
having reviled the gods, and, without the idea of justice, was 
condemned. 

How very different in modern times. We are a law-making, 
law-loving and law-abiding people. An orator may make the 
finest appeals to the passions ; he may have the genius and polish 
of a Cicero, or the talents of a Demosthenes ; he may use the 
most ingenious logic to prove that his reasoning is based on jus- 
tice ; still, the clumsiest of debaters will demolish him at a blow 
if he can prove the law and constitution to be against him. The 
ancient orator had a wider field for the display of his eloquence ; 
he looked on man as an instrument of many strings, upon which 
he alone can play who can skillfully touch all the cords. He 
studied the whole nature of man, his passions, his prejudices and 
emotions, always aiming to touch the cords which would chime 
in unison with the swell of his own bosom. 

Fine logicians we often meet, and able arguments are not rare; 
but seldom does the orator appear who can throw around the 
judge the veil of enchantment, lead him into such a temper of 
mind as he chooses, fire him with resentment, soften him with 
tears. Many have produced arguments as powerful as those of 
Demosthenes or Cicero, but none were ever uttered with such 
magic power. The greatest men confessed its might and fell 
victims before its shrine. The cool head of Csesar was once 
swayed by the eloquence of Cicero, and he pardoned a criminal 
contrary to his settled purpose. 

Not only did the ancients strive to perfect themselves in elo- 
quence, but they studied the smallest points of effect. The strictest 
attention was paid even to the dress. Quintilian in his day gave 
particular directions how the folds of his gown should be man- 
aged, the collar cut, even his rings must be worn to advantage ; 
and Demosthenes always dressed himself with a view to effect. 

Ancient orators practiced every act which could operate on the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 339 

feelings. The wives and crying children of the prisoners were 
often brought before the courts and passionate appeals made in 
their behalf. The accused sometimes appeared in tattered gar- 
ments, as indicative of wretchedness and poverty. Cicero, when 
about to be impeached by Clodius, came forward, with the rest of 
his party, dressed in deep mourning. In a British Parliament 
or an American court no such means for rousing the sympathies 
are allowed ; the lawyer is chained by the stern rigor of the law, 
and does not enter the realm of passion. No case on record, per- 
haps, so well illustrates the difference between ancient and mod- 
ern oratory as that of Warren Hastings. It called forth a 
display of eloquence almost equal to that of Demosthenes and 
Cicero. Never, since the palmy days of Greece, has an orator so 
completely swayed his audience as did the noble Burke, when he 
rose in a crowded hall of the British Parliament, and, after 
describing the character and institutions of the natives of India, 
the society of the Eastern Empire and the circumstances to which 
the British Asiatic empire owed its origin, pictured the effects of 
the tyrannous administration of Hastings and his utter defiance of 
all laws of morality and of justice. Then raising his voice until 
the arches of the Irish oak resounded, " Therefore," said he, 
" hath it with confidence been ordered by the Commons of Great 
Britian, that I impeach Warren Hastings of crimes and misde- 
meanors. I impeach him in the name of the Commons House 
of Parliament, whost trust he hath betrayed ; I impeach him in 
the name of England, whose ancient honor he hath sullied ; I 
impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose rights 
he has trodden under foot and whose country he has turned into 
a desert; last, in the name of human nature itself, in the name 
of both sexes, in the name of every rank, in the name of every 
age, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor of mankind." 
The house moved an adjournment, confessing it was impossible 
to give a decision after such a powerful speech. Had a verdict 
been given immediately, as would have been done in an Athenian 
court, or even as in a Roman Senate, Hastings would have been 
hanged, or sent to prison for life. 



340 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

A third cause of difference lies in the agitating questions of 
the day. We will notice first those of Greece. The little states 
of Greece were united in a sort of confederacy against barbaric 
nations, especially Persia, but though joined by national ties, 
they were divided in opinion and became two separate bodies, 
Sparta leading the Aristocratic, and Athens the Democratic party. 
Between these two states the bitterest animosity existed; each 
strove for the supremacy and heavily taxed its allied colonies to 
maintain its greatness. The colonies, themselves, became great 
rivals and viewed each other with hatred and suspicion. This 
strife finally ended in a bitter contest between Athens and Sparta, 
which lasted twenty-seven years. In Rome we find similar 
causes — the injustice of the patricians, the cry and complaints of the 
oppressed plebeians, the virtues and vices of the age, the continual 
wars with other nations, and at last among themselves. These 
contests, in both Greece and Rome, presented the most thrilling 
themes, and called forth the most strenuous efforts of the orator, 
which led to the discussion of questions; and in this, our Republic 
is like those of ancient times, for our country, though compara- 
tively new, is not wanting in those stirring scenes so favorable to 
oratory. Never, since the agitating days of Greece and Rome, has 
a broader field for eloquence presented'itself than the Revolution. 
The farmer left his plough and became a stump speaker; the 
ambitious student his studies and poured forth such stirring words 
as to rouse both old and young. The patriotic school-master left 
his duties in the school-room and travelled from place to place, 
delivering speeches. The land was broadcast with orators. Not 
that they might gain fame, but longing for liberty and a country 
to call their own, they stood forth brave and undismayed, and 
pointed out the means of deliverance or led the way to a noble 
self-sacrifice. 

America will not blush to own her orators before the proudest 
nation. England has her Pitt, Burke, Sheridan and Fox. 
America has her Patrick Henry, who, with Pitt's learning, would 
have surpassed aH modern orators, and has equalled any since 
the days of Cicero. To-day he stands on the topmost round of 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 341 

eloquence, surrounded by Randolph, Webster, Clay, Calhoun and 
others, who would have given their lives a sacrifice for their coun- 
try, and who, more than once, have made the halls of Philadelphia 
and Washington ring with their eloquence. 

Our late war has also furnished the orator with many interest- 
ing themes. At the present day our Presidential campaigns pre- 
sent a broad field to the speaker. Perhaps it is this which has 
called forth so much eloquence from some of the gifted sons of 
our Old North State, of whom she will ever be proud to boast. 

A fourth cause of the difference between ancient and modern 
eloquence is the invention of the printing press. It has given 
to government, to society and to civilization a new aspect. No 
wonder, then, that it has had so powerful an influence over the 
character of eloquence. Books in ancient time were nothing 
more than rolls of parchment, written by hand, and necessarily so 
dear that very few could buy them. These happy few pro- 
cured for themselves a monopoly of the knowledge of the day, 
which gave them undue power over the illiterate mass. This, 
we see, has ever been the case, where intellect reigns over igno- 
rance. Voltaire compares the great men of ancient times to a 
few tall cypresses, and the ignorant mass to the thick under- 
growth. The printing press has somewhat lowered the cypress 
and elevated the shrubbery. The great have come down the 
social ladder and the poor gone up. The eloquence of one man 
cannot now quiet the infuriated multitude into peace or carry the 
peaceful into war. The potent engine that controls the popular 
will is ever before the orator; the audience is familiar with the 
least important subject he can touch upon, and anticipates in the 
beginning his conclusion. 

In the most urgent debates the orator feels that his arguments 
are old, that they have almost lost their force, that he is only 
telling again a tale already told. Surprise and astonishment have 
ever been powerful instruments in the hands of a speaker. The 
ancient orator, knowing this, appeared before the people with his 
gathered facts both to enlighten and amaze. He was to the 
ancients what the printing press is to moderns. 



342 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

When Demosthenes addressed the Athenian Assembly he did 
not have to hear from the Agean Island. When Cicero spoke 
to the Roman Senate he did not wait a reply from the distant 
province of Gaul. He knew that the verdict would come from 
those who were present, and who would act under the influence 
of his speech. In modern times it is quite different. The most 
distant province must be enlightened upon the least important 
subject concerning it, and the popular voice returned before any 
decisive steps can be taken. This is done through the medium 
of the printing press. Thus we see, before an orator can act on 
an American Congress he must, by means of the press, operate 
on American people. Congress is but the mirror that reflects the 
popular will. So we have seen the difference between ancient 
and modern eloquence, which is due mainly to the difference of 
circumstances, rather than intellect. The ancients had, perhaps, 
more force, more passionate appeals to the feelings and greater 
influence over the audience, while moderns have more logic, more 
learning, greater interest in the welfare of individuals, and more 
love for humanity. 

The powerful eloquence which elevated the Greek mind still 
lives to call forth the noble qualities of man and fit him for that 
higher station which God appointed when He made him king 
over the earth. It ever lives, to rouse when his country calls, 
or quiet when the banner of peace is waving over the land. 



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Miss Norwood and Miss Smedes sail for Germany on the 
25th of June; Miss Blume on the 16th. 

Mrs. Iredell left for the North on the 10th of June, and, 
with Miss Czarnomska, expects to summer at Lake George. 

We were delighted to have with us at Commencement, not 
only the reverend Clergy of the city, always our honored and 
beloved guests, but, also, the Rev. Drs. Sutton and Huske and 
the Rev. Mr. John Huske. 



344 -ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Miss Le Gal has joined her nieces in South Carolina, and all 
the rest are scattered far and wide. 

It was not generally known by those who heard Bishop Lay's 
grand memorial sermon, at the opening of the late Convention, 
that the Episcopal robes worn by him on that occasion had 
belonged to the saintly Bishop, whose life and labors he so lov- 
ingly epitomized, and had been donated to him by Mrs. Atkin- 
son. 

The gold thimble, offered by Mrs. Meares early in the year, 
for the best model work done in the sewing-class, was won by 
Susie Hunter. The lovely dress made for her little sister will 
have a value beyond its intrinsic worth, for every neat and well 
laid stitch tells, not only of patient work, but also, of a desire to 
win the approbation of her teachers. 

Caro Pettigrew's old friends will share our pride in the 
good news that comes to us, of the high stand she has taken at 
the Vanderbilt University. It will be remembered, that, at 
request of Mr. Scarborough, the State Superintendent of Public 
Instruction, Mr. Smedes examined her as an applicant for a Pea- 
body Scholarship in the Normal College at Nashville. It is very 
gratifying to hear of her as among those who stand at the head 
of their class. 

On Sunday evening Mr. Smedes announced the yearly offer- 
ings and earnings of the Missionary Society, as follows : 

For the poor of Raleigh, $28.00; St. John's Hospital, $60.00; 
for St. Mary's Cot for sick children, in the same, $55.00 ; for 
Diocesan Missions, $20.00 ; Special, for St. Mary's in the Moun- 
tains, $100.00 ; Aldert Smedes Scholarship, 'in China, $40.00 ; 
Episcopal Assessment, $30.00; Mite Chests, $35.00— Total, 
$378.00. 

Once more we are called upon to tell the story of 

COMMENCEMENT WEEK. 

The annual sermon before the school was delivered on Satur- 
day evening, June 4, by the Rev. Mr. Rich. Having the stamp 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 345 

of loving sincerity and earnestness, so characteristic of the rever- 
end speaker, its wise counsels riveted the attention of his young 
hearers, while the charm of personal affection lent to his words an 
added interest, which made them sink deep into every heart. 
The sermon was a fitting prelude to the impressive services of the 
next day — Whit-Sunday. 

Bright and glowing in her festal robes, the Chapel was very 
beautiful. Flooded with the full tide of Pentecostal praise, the 
grand familiar ritual swelled on and on in choral chant and hymn 
till our hearts seemed to soar for the while above the things of 
earth and catch the inspiration of the day. But a purple thought 
of coming parting twined ever among the white and gold of joy 
and praise, and a solemn hush of unwonted reverence betokened 
the deep feeling that pervaded the congregation. Silently, but 
sadly, at the thought, "it is the last time," we gathered around the 
table of our Lord, praising Him for the gift of the Holy Ghost 
the Comforter, for whose presence " it was expedient" that even 
He should, leave his sorrowing disciples. 

When evening came, and the sweet young voices sang so ten- 
derly their parting hymn, " Sweet Saviour, bless us ere we go," 
the delicious organ grew tremulous under the touch of its master, 
and hearts were there that fairly quivered with the pain of com- 
ing separation. 

Monday, with its work-a-day claims, found us busy with ex- 
aminations. A novel feature of these was the outcome of the 
prominence given during the past year to English Composition. 
As the girls were called on to read one of their productions before 
the assembled school, many of them declared it worse than the 
traditional horror of writing the hated things. But the enthu- 
siasm which Miss Stubbert has infused into her classes has pro- 
duced such good fruit as can hardly fail to encourage our literary 
aspirants and to bring about a reaction in favor of this detested 
branch of school work. So well have her pupils responded to 
her teaching, that instead of one claiming the promised " honor" 
at the end of the year, six papers appeared equally to deserve it. 
Two (besides the graduates') rose to the dignity of "essays," and 



346 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

a " class honor " in addition was awarded to the best composition 
of each class — said honor consisting in the privilege of appearing 
on one of the programmes of the week, to be read before a larger 
audience. 

THE SOIREE FRANCAISE 

came off on Monday evening. A scene from the Misanthrope, 
a poem recited by one of the classes' junior, an original compo- 
sition, by Miss Albertson, and a charming little play, "La Robe 
Perdue," afforded the pupils ample opportunity to show their 
friends some of the results of dear "Mademoiselle's" excellent 
teaching. In grammatical accuracy and colloquial fluency, we 
venture to say they were equal to any, and surpassed by no school 
work. A charming song, by Miss Fanny Sharp, and a bright 
chorus (but of course in French) were pretty additions to the 
play, and the liveliness with which the girls entered into the 
spirit of their various parts made it, simply as a pantomime, 
most acceptable to the lookers on. The "honor" compositions 
of Miss McVea and Miss Faulcon elicited the highest encomiums, 
and the songs of Misses Hawkins and Settle were a sweet earnest 
of what Miss Blume had yet in store for the lovers of melody. 

THE KINDERGARTEN, 

on Tuesday evening, delighted parents and teachers — and the 
crowded room told of others not so nearly interested — with many 
evidences of progress and improvement. The French exercises 
of the little ones should be particularly noticed, though their 
English readings and recitations were good enough to tell that 
French perfection had not been acquired at the expense of their 
native tongue ; and the choruses and songs, calisthenic exercises 
and marches, etc., etc., that filled their long programme, testified 
to the wisdom of St. Mary's idea, that "all work and no play " 
would make her sunbeams dim and dull. The " color march " 
was a beautiful finale to these interesting exercises. 

The white-robed throng passed out of sight, following "Obe- 
dience" and guided by "Wisdom" — their banners bearing aloft 



ST. MARY'S MUSK 347 

each one's special "Virtue," every brow stamped with the name 
of the "precious stones" they "would set in the dear Lord's 
crown," and we all cried from our hearts, "God bless the dear 
children !" 

THE ANNUAL, CONCERT, 

on Wednesday, was beyond all praise. Certainly, our powers of 
criticism are at fault. The following programme shows that 
Mr. Sanborn and Miss Blume knew their pupils' capacities, and 
the delight of the immense audience which thronged every avenue 
to the hall, testifies that they had not been too highly estimated. 
Would that we had time and space to give each member of the 
beautiful programme its due word of praise. Miss Blume's own 
rich voice poured forth its sweetest notes, and the "finish" of her 
pupils manifested not only her careful training, but the ad- 
vantages they had enjoyed of imitating her artistic style. 
The instrumental music was equally admirable. Mr. Sanborn 
must have felt more than gratified at such results of his faithful 
work. Miss Smedes' Concerto seemed to us so perfect that Ave 
wondered if her studies in Europe could add aught to her bril- 
liancy of execution. The recitations, though few, on account of 
the unusual length of the performance, fully sustained the high 
reputation of the school in this respect. The "Fall of Pember- 
ton Mills," by Miss Collins, especially called forth expressions 
of enthusiastic admiration. 

At the close of the Concert, Mr. Sanborn awarded his certifi- 
cates of distinction, for earnest effort and progress. These were 
exquisitely gotten up on cards of white and blue silk, gilded and 
fringed. Misses Wilkinson, Sutton, Young, Emily Smedes, 
Hardin and Settle, received distinctions for instrumental music, 
and Misses Pannill, Settle, Sharp, Jones, Hardin and Fentress 
received those for vocal progress. 

To Miss Fanny Sharp was also given the prize for most 
marked improvement in singing, viz. : a superb book of Tenny- 
son's songs, set to music by the most eminent modern composers. 

The playing and singing of these young ladies certainly 
reflected great credit upon themselves as well as upon their teach- 



348 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

ers. But we must not linger, for the exercises of Thursday, 
Graduates' Day, are yet to be rendered, and must not be passed 
over too lightly. 

Commencement Day was beautifully bright, as though Nature, 
herself, would smile approval upon our festival. 

The spacious hall was decked with her floral gifts ; the blue 
and gold banner of the Class of '81, bearing their chosen legend, 
floated above the platform where the Bishop of the Diocese, the 
Principal of the School, and others of the Clergy, waited to 
receive the aspiraDts for scholastic honors. 

At the appointed hour, the long procession filed in, and the 
exercises were opened by Miss Minnie Albertson, who, after 
a graceful salutation to her Bishop, Rector, teachers and friends, 
delivered one of the most scholarly essays it has ever been our 
privilege to listen to. As this, with other compositions of the 
day, will be found in the pages of the Muse, we will leave our 
readers to judge of them on their own merits, and not from our 
partial commendation alone. 

This was followed by Tennyson's "Dream of Fair Women," 
recited by Miss Settle with the dignity and eloquence befitting 
the noble poem. 

Of the Senior Class, these two young ladies were the only ones 
who had taken the full course necessary to the attainment of a 
diploma; two others, however, had obtained "honors," and 
their compositions were assigned places upon the programme for 
Graduates' Day. 

We think their high positions were fully justified by the 
poetic gracefulness of Miss Lewis's "Prose Lay of Ancient 
Rome," and by the rare merit of Miss McCullough's "Loneli- 
ness of Genius." 

A pleasing rarity was given to the occasion by two charming 
songs from Miss Pannill and Miss Blume. The whole was con- 
cluded by Miss Settle's noble essay — "One of Earth's Voices" — 
and her touching farewell to school and friends. With incom- 
parable grace, she took the banner from its place beside her, and 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 349 

handed it to Miss Lord (the chosen representative of the Class of 
'82), and charged them to adopt its high resolve. 

Right proudly did they receive the precious charge, and, fol- 
lowing their standard-bearer, the Class of '82 led the procession 
to the Chapel. 

While singing the processional hymn of "Victory achieved," 
they passed up the aisle; then opening ranks, the graduates, 
teachers, Clergy and Bishop marched to their respective places. 
The roll of honor was read, the distinctions of the year an- 
nounced (these will be published in the Catalogue), and the 
Bishop addressed the school, and especially those just going out 
from her care, with such fatherly earnestness and wisdom as 
only the Bishop can command. 

At the request of the Rector, he then bestowed the diplomas 
upon the fair young couple, as St. Mary's highest honor justly 
earned, and calling them to kneel before him at the chancel rail, 
"he laid his hands upon them and blessed them." 

Then followed some very fine organ music by some of Mr. 
Sanborn's pupils — Misses Wilkinson, Hardin and Pippin ; then 
was sung the recessional hymn, 

"On our way rejoicing, as we homeward go,'' 

and the Commencement of '81 was ended. 

It would not become us to eulogize our work or its fruits, but 
gentlemen of high position and culture were present, who de- 
clared the exercises to surpass anything of the kind they ever 
witnessed, and we were ready to believe them. 

The Reception on Thursday night was thoroughly enjoyed by 
the young folks, whose gay spirits seemed to accept this merry 
occasion as ample compensation for all their hard work. 

The harpers played their sweetest music, and all was gay and 
bright till midnight chimed the good-night hour. 

In bidding farewell to Mr. Sanborn and his musical staff, St. 
Mary's would place on record her profound appreciation of their 
valuable services. Aided and strengthened by the enthusiastic 
co-operation of his gifted vocalist, Miss Blume, and his accom- 



350 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

plished assistants, Miss Sraedes and Miss DeRosset, Mr. San- 
born's untiring zeal, unselfish devotion and able administration 
have elevated the Department of Music to its present high stan- 
dard of excellence. And for this, the School owes a lasting debt 
of gratitude. But more: Four years of daily association have 
woven in our hearts a triple cord of affection for these dear 
friends, which, elastic as strong, will reach after them, even to 
the ends of the earth ; making us to rejoice in their happiness, to 
sorrow if grief should befall them, and to feel an abiding interest 
in their welfare. Wishing them all true happiness and joy, we 
bid them a loving, sad good-bye. May good angels watch over 
them wherever they may be ! 

The Art Department, too, suffers a severe loss in the departure 
of its beloved Miss Norwood. Striving ever after higher rounds 
in her profession, she goes to Europe to study, in its world- 
renowned galleries, the works of the grand old masters. The 
walls of her studio in the exhibition of Commencement week 
bore ample testimony to her success as a teacher, but they did not 
tell how her patience and gentleness and fidelity have endeared 
her to her pupils and commanded the regard and esteem of all 
our household. Most cordially do we bid her godspeed, and 
wish for her the realization of her bright hopes of improvement 
and enjoyment in her travels. 

As the autumn evenings are illumined by constellations no less 
brilliant than those which gemmed the heavens in the sweet 
spring-time, so will September find the places of these bright 
particular stars, who have shed such lustre upon St. Mary's, fille<Sfe 
by others, it may be, equally as bright. Under their auspices 
we fondly hope our Alma Mater may long continue her honor- 
able career of usefulness and prosperity. The class motto of 
'81, "Vestigia nulla retrorsum," we feel assured, is the prophecy 
of her future, as it has been the key-note of her past history. 
We, who have known and loved her from youth upward, can 
wish for her no prouder reward than promised to all good and 
faithful work. May hers indeed be crowned at the end with 
everlasting glory. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE 



EDITED BY THE 



SENIOR CLASS OF ST. MARY'S SCHOOL. 



Vol. IV. 



RALEIGH, N. C, NOVEMBER 1881. 



No. 1. 



CONTENTS : 

Page. 

Poem— The Hearkening Ear— J. E. C. 8 1 

Alta-Loma— Alice M. Hagood — Junior A 2 

Milton — Alice C. Winston — Senior B 5 

Over the Sea — Emilie W. McVea — Junior A 8 

A Letter from Mother Hubbard — Kate L. Sutton — Senior B... 12 
The Death of an Angel — Jean Paul Richter, translated from 

the German by E. O. T% 15 

A St. M Aryan's Voyage Across the Sea — Eliza H. Smedes 20 

Blondine — A Fairy Tale — Mme. de Segur, translated from the 

French by M. E. B 24 

Regulus — Emilie R. Smedes— Junior A * 30 

-Jack Frost — Kate S. Albertson — Junior C 32 

Vineta — Rebecca A. Collins — Senior A 34 

Chaucer — Martha A. Dowd — Senior B 36 

Editorial 38 

Current Topics 43 

Report of Alumnae Association— iT. McKimmon, Secretary.... 46 

Personals .• 47 

Minutes of the Editorial Club 49 

Book Notices 51 

Art Notices 52 

Chip Basket 53 



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The catalogue for 1880 will contain more than 240 names, from ten Southern 
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ST. MAEY'S MUSE. 



Vol. IV. Raleigh, N. 0., November, 1881. No. 1. 



THE HEARKENING EAR. 



"He heard me out of His holy temple, and my cry came even into His 
ears." Psalm xviii, 6. 



Dionysius, the despot of Syracuse old, 
Quarried deep in the rock, 'neath his palace of gold, 
And digged there a dungeon, dank, noisome, and drear, 
And called the dark hollow his Hearkening Ear. 

The cunning of workmen so shaped the cell's stones, 
That they gathered and strengthened and echoed the groans, 
The low sighs, and complaints of his captives and thralls, 
And the tyrant now heard them, aloft in his halls. 

I recall the old tale, when I lift up my cry, 

In the Lord's House of Prayer, to the Monarch on high ; 

Can He hear us above, far beyond the sky's cope? 

Hear the low-murmured wail of the "pris'ners of hope"? 

The place upon earth where His honor doth dwell, 

His temple below, is a whispering cell, 

So measured and modeled, oh! mystery dear! 

That it echoes our prayers, and is God's Heark'ning Ear. 

The Lord is no tyrant, whose ear drinks the moans 

Of his victims as music or mirth-moving tones. 

The Lord doth not willingly chasten us here : 

God is Love, and His House is Love's Hearkening Ear. 

The publican's plea and the prodigal's plant, 
"Nunc Dimittis" from Simeon, — veteran saint, — 
The child's sweet hosanna, — love casting out fear, — 
Re-echo and ring in God's Hearkening Ear. 



2 ST. MARY'S MWE. 

Ye profane, will ye utter a frivolous word 

In this whispering-gallery? Hush! 'Twill be heard 

Far above, in the Palace, Eternity's Dome, 

Where Heaven's High and Lofty One hallows His home. 

How dreadful the place! When high service is sung, 
Blessed Lord, in Thine House, oh! touch each dull tongue 
With live coal from the Altar, that all may sing clear 
Holy words from pure hearts in Thy Hearkening Ear. 



" ALTA-LOMA"—THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. 



"O, good painter, tell me true, 

Has your mind the cunning to draw 
Shapes of things that you never saw? 
Aye! Well, here is an order for you." 

A house of white stone, situated on the summit of a beautiful 
hill whose slopes are terraced by Nature's hands, and exquisitely 
carpeted with shaded grasses, while over them wave the English 
linden and quivering aspen. 

At the base of the hill, immediately fronting the house, the 
"big gate" leads to the broad turn-pike road, which we daily 
traverse in reaching Winchester. 

To the left flows a beautiful stream, winding its way through 
fertile fields. The banks are covered with soft moss and shaded 
by trees whose trailing branches almost sweep the water. 

On either side of the broad portico is a small garden, where 

"Beauty walks in bravest dress, 

And, fed with April's mellow showers, 
The earth laughs out with sweet May flowers, 
That flush for very happiness." 

Further back are "woods upon woods," and between them, 
fields of corn, where, from morn 'til dewy eve, old " Logan," 
harnessed to the plough, faithfully trudges up and down. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 3 

Picture all this in the heart of a lovely valley "girt round 
with rugged mountains," where, 

"Watching each white cloudlet 

Float silently and slow, 
You think a piece of heaven 
Lies on our earth below." 

Such was "Alta-Loma." Dear Alta-Loma! Was there ever 
a spot on earth so home-like? Each hour brought sounds of 
peace and plenty: at midday the low of the cattle, the ceaseless 
hum of bees, and the water laughing as it danced over the golden 
pebbles. But at evening all was still, save the song of katy-did, 
and far over the hill the faint call, " Co' boss ! co' boss ! co' boss ! 
co'! co'! co'!" 

With the dawn, the farm again awoke to life, and another busy 
day began. The first stir was among the many fowls in the barn- 
yard. All these, from the tiny muff to the flaunting pea-cock, 
were my special property, and four of them my constant care. 
First, Partridge, my little rooster, and the dearest to me. His 
name was given him because, when young, he could scarcely be 
distinguished from a partridge. Then came Bliney, his niece ; 
so called from being blind in one eye. Then my dear little 
Dimple, Bliney's daughter. She required more attention than 
any of the others, being exceedingly delicate ; for she was afflicted 
with something like asthma, and at times was unable to walk, 
from rheumatism. Lastly, little Peter, the prettiest in the 
yard. He belonged to the "Muff" family, and was not more 
than six inches in height. He would sit and crow by the hour, 
whenever I gave the command, "Crow, Peter." His little legs 
(if such they could be called) were just one inch long, and 
entirely covered with snow-white feathers. Had it not been for 
his red comb, he would have looked like a ball of snow. 

There was a marked difference in the characters of my pets. 
Partridge would maintain his rights with any chicken, and fight 
bravely to the last, no matter what the cost. I have never seen 
a human being with more pride. Bliney was very cautious: if 



4 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

she thought her foe too powerful, she would at once seek my pro- 
tection ; but if not, she would resent the slightest injury. Dimple 
had her mother's spirit of resentment, but helplessness made fight- 
ing impracticable. Poor little Peter, however, felt his own 
inability, and carefully eluded the other roosters. 

Notwithstanding all their funny little ways, each chicken's 
heart was tender and true. I had often wondered if the picture 
of the hen frantic on first seeing goslings plunge into the water 
was true. Accordingly, at my earliest opportunity, I gave 
Bliney a dozen goose eggs. What was my delight, when a few 
weeks later she walked from her nest with twelve beautiful little 
goslings! After several days, being anxious to try my experi- 
ment, I put them in a lot through which ran the stream. To 
my joy, they marched directly to the water. Some, supposing it 
a continuation of the land, fell in head foremost, others hopped 
in gracefully, while a few gazed wonderingly before risking them- 
selves. Soon all were swimming about, enjoying it even more 
than I had anticipated. The poor mother stood by, scratching 
and clucking with all her might, using every means to draw her 
babies away from the terrible stream. Her distress was pitiful: 
I was not quite heartless enough to leave her in such anxiety, so 
I Called, "Chick! chick! chicky!" and the little family were 
soon following me to the house for their daily meal. 

The pigeon-houses held hundreds of cooing inmates. To 
these I had a special claim, having reared the first pair. 

There was a large lot where the stables stood, and in which 
the cattle were fed. Near by it were the pig-pens. What a 
lesson of contentment these animals teach us! Their grunt 
always betokens perfect bliss, and they accommodate themselves 
to their circumstances with a constant murmur of satisfaction. 

I have neglected to speak of the orchard, where every variety 
of fruit grew, and of the large fields of grain with 

i "Cattle near, 

Biting shorter the short green grass." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 5 

My favorite seat was a little bower, on the river bank, almost 
hidden by honeysuckle vines, which peeped through the lattice 

"A tiptoe, 
And good-morrow bade." 

Closing' my eyes, I almost believe myself again at old "Alta- 
Loma," where 

"Honeyed plots are drowsed with bees, 
And larks rain music by the shower, 
While singing, singing, hour by hour, 
Song, like a spirit, sits in the trees." 



MILTON. 



In London, on the 9th day of December, 1608, was born one 
of the greatest of our poets — John Milton; "the poet, the states- 
man, the philosopher, the glory of English literature, the cham- 
pion and the martyr of English liberty." 

From his youth he seemed to be conscious of superior abilities. 
While at school he was a very hard student, and he himself tells 
us that from his twelfth year, he rarely left his studies until 
midnight. Until he was fifteen, his education was conducted by 
his private tutor, Thomas Young. At that age he was admitted 
into St. Paul's School, and he completed his education at Christ's 
College, Cambridge. Milton's sublime hymn on the "Nativity," 
and several Latin poems, were written simply as college exer- 
cises. After leaving the university, he retired to the home of 
his parents at Horton, in Buckinghamshire. Here he spent five 
years iu hard study, and at the same time wrote "L' Allegro," "II 
Penseroso," "Com us," "Arcades," and "Lycidas." The Allegro is 
an ode upon cheerful tempered mirth, and the metre is exquisitely 
adapted to the subject. This and the Penseroso are exact coun- 
terparts; the latter is on melancholy, and the two are of the 
same length and written in a perfectly opposite style. 



6 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

After the death of Milton's mother, in 1638, he determined 
to make the grand tour. Accordingly, he visited the principal 
cities of France and Italy, but while travelling in Greece, he 
heard of the rupture between Charles I. and the Parliament, and 
immediately returned to England. In one of his letters, he 
says: "I thought it base to be travelling for amusement abroad, 
while my fellow-citizens were fighting for liberty at home." 
Milton now determined to spend all his time on his grandest 
work, which he intended to be an epic poem. While busily em- 
ployed in its preparation, the situation of affairs called forth his 
first pamphlet, entitled "Of Reformation." This was published 
in 1641, and was a violent attack upon the Episcopal Church. 
At Whitsuntide, in the year 1643, having just entered upon his 
thirty-fifth year, Milton married Mary Powell, the daughter of 
an Oxfordshire royalist. His Puritan household naturally 
seemed very gloomy to the young girl after the merriment of 
her father's house. Milton, therefore, permitted her to visit her 
home, on condition that she would return at Michaelmas. As 
she did not return at the appointed time, he wrote and 
asked the reason of her delay. But she paid no attention to his 
letters, and dismissed with contempt the messenger who was sent 
to urge her return. This little domestic trouble was the cause of 
the "Letters on Divorce," which appeared in the year 1644. 
His wife remained at her father's home for two years, when, 
hearing that her husband had determined to marry again, she 
repented and returned to his house. So entire was Milton's for- 
giveness, that, when the civil war drove her family into poverty 
and distress, he received them all into his home. In 1649 he 
was appointed Latin Secretary to the Council of State, and 
while he held this office, Salmasius produced a powerful pamph- 
let in Latin, maintaining the divine right of kings. The 
royalists thought this argument unanswerable; but the Council 
appointed Milton to issue a reply, which he did, and so powerful 
a one that Salmasius, overcome with mortification, died not long 
after. For two or three years Milton had been suffering from 
the failure of his eyesight, and in 1653, as the result of his hard 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 7 

study in the preparation of the "Defensio Populi Anglicani," he 
became totally blind. But this did not abridge his usefulness, 
for he still wrote the most important state papers, and also pro- 
duced a history of Britain. From this time until Milton's 
death, he lived in retirement, busily employed in the compositon 
of his greatest works, "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Regained." 
He took about seven years to compose the first of these, and the 
subject is certainly the grandest that has ever been treated of. 
The whole poem is a description of the fall of man. Celestial 
and infernal personages are introduced, while he does not hesitate 
to take us even into the presence of the Deity. 

Milton was the first to adapt blank verse to epic poetry. Lam- 
artine speaks of Paradise Lost as "the dream of a Puritan who has 
failed asleep over the first pages of the Bible." y Milton describes 
the fallen Archangel, the splendor of heaven, and the horrors of 
hell with a fertility of imagination that has never been surpassed. 
During Milton's declining years he composed the " Samson 
Agonistes." The wretchedness and struggles of its blind hero 
paint for us vividly the life of the author. Almost all of the 
English poets have written sonnets, and many of them with 
great success, but none have equaled Milton in the perfection of 
his Italian sonnets. They diifer from others in that they have 
for their subjects religion and patriotism instead of love. Yet 
the finest of all is one on his own blindness. 

Milton was great in prose as well as in poetry; for Chateaubri- 
and tells us that "Prose conferred celebrity on him during his 
life ; poetry, after his death ; but the renown of the prose-writer 
is lost in the glory of the poet." 

Milton was married three times. His first wife, Mary Powell, 
died leaving him three daughters. The second, Katharine 
Woodcock, died very soon after her marriage, but his last, Eliza- 
beth Minshull, survived him many years. After his retire- 
ment from public life, his society was much sought, especially 
by foreigners, who having studied him in his writings, were 
anxious to be acquainted with him personally. But no one 
could know, or fully understand him. His was the life of a. 



8 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

recluse. Even when a boy, and at the university, his fellow- 
students soon discovered him to be reserved, and in every respect 
different from them. On account of this, and his almost effemi- 
nate beauty, he even won the nick-name "The Lady of Christ's 
College." Wordsworth says of him : "Thy soul was like a star, 
and dwelt apart." 

On the 8th of November, 1674, Milton died. Two days 
after his death, he was buried in Cripplegate Church-yard. We 
talk of the blind poet with such reverence that we almost think 
him more than human. We more than admire him, but his 
nature forbids the familiar acquaintance that would warm our 
feeling into love. 



OVER THE SEA. 



I slept, and behold, I stood under a palm-tree, in a valley 
encircled by towering mountains. The cool morning breeze was 
wafted gently from the west, and all nature bore the hush of 
early dawn. 

Suddenly the whole region was shaken as by a mighty earth- 
quake, and from the heavens descended an angel with wings of 
flaming fire. He approached me, and said : "Follow me, and I 
will show thee one of the great mysteries of the earth." With 
fear and trembling, for I was sore afraid, I followed. On the 
summit of the highest mountain he paused. Thence I beheld in 
the plain beneath, two great vineyards ; one with a soil stony and 
rough, covered with rank weeds, scorched and withered by the 
fierce rays of the sun, which seemed to beat upon it relentlessly. 
The other abounding in luscious grapes, and rare, beautiful 
flowers. A sea, smooth as glass and glittering in the sunshine, 
lay before the two vineyards ; while behind them rose a mass of 
mountains shrouded in perpetual gloom; and as the day wore 
on, their shadow crept nearer and nearer the sea. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 9 

" What means this scene, O angel?" I asked. 

He said : "Over this sea dwells the Lord of the vineyards, who 
watcheth and protecteth His faithful people from all dangers. 
The mountains," and the angel's face saddened as he spoke, "are 
the eternal abode of those who in this life would not give heed 
unto the voice of their Lord. Turn and view these vineyards. 
Be wise, O man, and learn their lesson well." 

I looked, and saw that, in the beautiful garden no husbandman 
was needed, for the vines grew without cultivation ; beauteous 
flowers sprang up on every side; little birds warbled their most 
joyous melodies; the sun shown gently through the leaves of the 
trees, and beneath their shade the inhabitants of the vineyard 
were gathering the lovely flowers, or playing soft, sweet strains 
on their flutes and lyres. 

Among the cool vines was a little child with her companions. 
She was very gay, and the morning dew clung to her soft, golden 
hair. Leaving her comrades, she wandered on beside the cool, 
laughing brooks, twining for herself gay wreaths. Often, how- 
ever, she would turn and gaze with a look of wonder and scorn at 
those working so toilsomely in the other vineyard. A woman 
advanced towards the children ; a lyre was in her hands, and as 
she touched it, there flowed therefrom strains of the most ex- 
quisite melody. "My child," she said, "how happy are we in 
this lovely place! We have no work nor care, but always 
pleasure. Look at those misearble deceived people in the other 
vineyard. How they toil all the day in the delusive hope of at 
last crossing that great sea yonder ! It is said that pure joy and 
rest remaineth beyond, but in the darkness of the night I have 
heard mighty and terrible voices, as it were from far over the sea. 

"Hark!" 

The shadows of the mountains had fallen darkly over the 
nearer portion of the sea. The thunder crashed, and from the 
distance came a voice: "To whom I sware in my wrath that they 
shall not enter into my rest." The child drew back with a 
frightened shudder, and said: "Oh, come with me further back 
into the gay vineyard, for I fear exceedingly the cruel sea and 
2 



10 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the loud voices." They hastily turned, fled up the broad paths 
and mingled with the pleasure-seekers, who, alas! went not 

towards the sea, but towards the mountains. 

■ I 

As I gazed, the vision changed. It was noon, and the rays of I 

the sun grew fiercer and fiercer. The leaves, flowers, and grape I 
vines withered under the heat; the little birds fell dead beneath I 
the trees; a great desolation reigned over the vineyard. But I 
where is the little child, so happy a few hours before? Ah! I 
yonder she is, but how changed ! Her face is drawn with pain ; her 
feet are pierced with thorns unseen while the flowers lived; her 
poor little hands are bleeding. Now and then she reaches up- 
wards to gather the fruit, but, alas! she finds only bitter grapes. 
The same woman is by the child, but the lyre hangs listlessly by 
her side. Look ! She touches it, and discords grate harshly on 
the ear. 

Night comes on; the darkness grows more and more intense; 
black clouds hang over the heavens. The people crowd together 
in terror at the mountains towering above them. For an instant 
there is a hush. Then the wind arises, the earth shakes, the 
mountains rock for very sorrow. Above all the tumult comes 
the wail of despair, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." Blacker 
and blacker falls the night; the wind moans and dies away. All 
is still, and the vineyard is a mass of ruins. 

Filled with deep amazement, I looked at the other vineyard, 
and again it was day. The sun blazed and the toilers were worn 
and weary. Here were paths, rough and stony, hidden by mists 
or losing themselves in the shadows. Only a few were filled 
with flowers, but all at length reached the bright sea. A man 
with bleeding hands and parched lips was toiling at the weeds in 
his path. Near him a young girl trod, with faltering steps, the 
difficult road. Often her way led over stones and rocks, which 
scarred the tender hands and bruised her feet with their sharp 
points, and, as she stooped to pluck up a weed, the thorns pierced 
her flesh. Another tended a few flowers, and lovingly she raised 
their drooping heads and watered their parched roots. Some- 
times a look of perfect peace spread over her face as she mur- 



' 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 11 



mured, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a 
crown of life." 

Now were the effects of the morning's work plainly visible. 
The vines springing up all around, were loaded with sweet grapes, 
and the workers, as they toiled, were protected by the shade of 
the vines. Sometimes, even now, the road seemed hard and 
dreary ; but often was given to the laborers such quiet as was 
almost a foretaste of that home, " Where the weary are at rest." 

As the evening shadows drew near, a child entered the garden. 
The little stranger timidly approached a maiden and said : " Tell 
me, I pray you, why all these people waste their time and strength 
trying to pull up these ugly weeds ? " A radiant smile overspread 
the girl's face, as she answered: "It is our Lord's vineyard, and 
He allows us to work here for Him. If we are faithful servants, 
He will at last take us to His Kingdom, Over the Sea. The 
twelve gates of His City are twelve pearls, every several gate of 
one pearl. There are all the holy saints, who having 'fought a 
good fight,' do now rest from their labors. The splendor of 
that city never passeth away, but becometh brighter and brighter." 
"I want to stay with you and go to His Kingdom," said the 
child, "but the road is rough and the thorns hurt me." "My 
little one, the path grows easier every day. None of us may 
journey together, but each separately. We are alone, and yet not 
alone, for our Lord will be with us always. And when, at last, 
we come to His Kingdom, there shall be no more toil or weari- 
ness, but peace and rest forevermore." 

The Vision was ended. 



12 ST. MARTS MUSE. 



A LETTER FROM MOTHER HUBBARD ABOUT 
HER DOG. 



B , May . 

My Dear Little Friend: — I have had an addition to my 
household, a dear little dog. I cannot describe my joy in having 
it, though it is some trouble, and does cost me some anxiety. 
Yet it is such a darling of a dog, as to be all I could have asked 
to complete my happiness. But I must begin at the beginning 
and tell you all about the dear creature. 

I went to my wood-pile one morning to pick up some chips, 
and there, on the other side of the fence, was a crowd of dirty 
boys, who had fastened my old tin sauce-pan to a poor little dog's 
tail, had tied a string to his hind leg, and set a great, horrid dog 
after him. Of course, in the scramble, they had broken the poor 
thing's leg, and he was lying there, all bleeding. You know it 
goes to my mother-heart at once, to see anything suffer, so I just 
knocked those ragamuffins right and left; and that great big bull- 
dog turned out to be a coward at last, for he ran as hard as he 
could when he saw me coming. Then I had my little dog all 
to myself. I picked him up in my arms and he moaned so piti- 
fully that tho' I had thought before to put him in the wood shed, 
I determined to carry him nowhere but into my own kitchen. 
I made a little bed by the fire and put him on it, and then stirred 
up an Irish potato poultice, which you know is good for every- 
thing, and spread it on his broken leg. Still he kept looking at 
me so wistfully out of his beautiful yellow eyes, that I did not 
know what to do for him, until I thought perhaps he was hungry. 
So I got him a nice saucer of milk (I did not skim it either) 
and set it down before him. Still he looked at me in that same 
wistful way. Then it flashed upon my dull old perception that 
it was a bone he wanted. So I went to the cupboard, perfectly 
confident of finding one; for to my certain knowledge, I had put 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 13 

it there the night before. I opened the cupboard door — when, 
behold! there was no bone; the shelf was perfectly empty. 
Child, imagine my sorrow — but I know you cannot, for it was 
too deep for arty imagination. When I looked over my shoulder, 
and there was that dog looking at me, actually with tears in his 
eyes, I sat right down, put my apron up to my eyes and cried. 

I determined that my little dog should not suffer from hunger, 
so I walked straight down to the butcher's and bought him a 
piece of tripe. As I entered the door I was thinking how much 
he would enjoy the nice bit, when there I saw, in my clean 
kitchen, that dog smoking a pipe, a thing I do abhor above all 
others. Well! I was exasperated. To think that after all I 
had done for him, the ungrateful wretch should dare to smoke 
a pipe in my house! But after I had cooled down a little, I 
remembered that the poor little fellow had never been taught any- 
thing; he did not know what smoking was, how many lives it had 
ruined, how many homes were made desolate just by that detest- 
able tobacco; so, of course, it was not his fault. I let that time 
go, but I tell you there is not a day that passes without my in- 
structing him about the evils of smoking, and what will be his 
end if he continues it. Thus far he has been so obedient to me 
that I love him more and more every day. 

The next morning was really cold, and I was afraid my pet 
might suffer, so I put on my bonnet and went down to the tailor's 
to get him a coat — a nice, new, blue one. It took me some time 
to make my bargain, for that old tailor is noted for his unreason- 
ableness. At last, having concluded it, I hastened home, fearing 
that my dog might have wanted something while I was gone. 
As I opened the gate I happened to glance up at the piazza, and, 
bless my soul ! there was my dog seated on that old goat that 
used to eat up all my apple trees last spring. I was so surprised 
and frightened that I stood right up there in my front yard and 
screamed. Yes, I, a woman who makes a great point of pro- 
priety, screamed in my front yard. After I had recovered from 
my fright, we went into the house to try the coat on him. It was 
not as easy as you might think, for it is even harder to try a coat 



14 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

on a dog than on a little boy, and I presume you know what that 
is. At last, after much screwing and twisting on his part and 
great fear on mine that I might hurt his sore leg, the coat was 
on. It fitted exactly, and he looked so nice that I couldn't help 
turning right round and goiug to the hatter's to buy him a hat. 

I walked as fast as I could, for I knew I ought to be home get- 
ting dinner ready. When I got back again, there was my darling 
little dog feeding my old tabby-cat, whom I had forgotten at 
breakfast. Just to think of his thoughtfulness and care for 
others ! Why, it pleased me so much I think I smiled all day. 

To reward him for being so good, I went down to the hair- 
dresser's to get him a wig, that his hat might fit better. I picked 
out the very prettiest I could find and carried it home to him. 
And what do you think he was doing when I got there? Stand- 
ing in the middle of the floor dancing a jig. I thought Irish 
potato poultice was good before, but now I am confirmed in my 
belief, and never intend to use anything else. You may know 
I was glad to see him so cheerful after his sickness, and could not 
help wishing that some other people might take him for an ex- 
ample, and not be always complaining just because they are a 
a little ill. 

I put him snugly to bed at night, and the next morning when 
I awoke, as he was still sleeping soundly, I thought I would have 
something nice for his breakfast. So I went around to the baker's 
and bought him a nice new loaf of bread. Now, child, get out 
your handkerchief, for I say as that man you read to me about, 
" If you have tears, prepare to shed them now." I tell you this 
because I cry whenever I think about it, although it is all over. 
When I went to give my dog his bread — my little darling, my 
greatest treasure, was lying there stone dead. I thought I had 
had trouble before, but I never did feel heart-broken until then ; 
for I had centered all my hopes in my dog. I couldn't eat any 
breakfast; I couldn't do anything but weep over my poor little 
dead pet. 

Half the day was spent in this way, when it struck me that he 
must have a decent burial. I tied a black ribbon on my bonnet 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 15 

and hastened down to the undertaker's. Having finished that sad 
business, I walked sadly home, thinking what desolation would 
be there hereafter. I opened the door. Was I dreaming? It 
could not be a reality. My little dog, whom I had left dead, 
was sitting up in bed, alive and well, and even laughing. I 
couldn't believe it was he until I went up and touched him; then 
I just cried for joy. 

He hasn't been at all sick since, and I am sure it is because of 
the Irish potato that he came back to life. This is according to 
what the wise men call logic, fo.r I heard a man lecture at the 
town hall the other night, and there was one sentence which I 
repeated all the way home, so I could remember it. It was this : 
"■ Life is a series of phenomena in organized beings, dependent on 
structure, chemical organization and external stimuli." Now, 
my dog certainly is an organized being, he has gone through a 
series of very curious phenomena, and I am pretty sure the Irish 
potato was the chief of the external stimuli. 

I must stop now, as it is time for me to prepare my little pet's 
supper. I am expecting a visit from you soon, and you need not 
think it will be as dull as your former one, for you know my dog 
will amuse you. 

Lovingly yours, 

Mother Hubbard. 



THE DEATH OF AN ANGEL. 



There is sent to us as the angel of our last hour, which we so 
harshly call death, the fairest and tenderest of the heavenly host, 
that he may softly and lovingly raise the fainting heart of man 
in his warm hands, and pressing it from the icy breast, carry it 
up to the light of Paradise. His brother is the angel of our 
first hour, who bestows on man two kisses: one w T hen he enters 
into life; the second that he may waken with smiles to the other 
life, though into this he came weeping. 



16 ST. MARTS MUSE. 

There lay the battle fields, full of blood and tears; and as the 
Angel of the Last Hour tenderly bore the trembling souls from 
their bodies, his eyes overflowed with tears, and he said : "O, I 
will die as man dies, that I may experience his last pain, and 
know how to still his agony when I free him from life." The 
immeasurable circle of angels who live and love in the fields of 
ether, pressed close to their compassionate comrade, and promised 
that when death should approach him, they would surround him 
with their heavenly beams, and he would know that it was in- 
deed death. And his brother, who opens our stiffened lips, as 
the morning ray the chilled flowers, touched his lips gently, and 
said : "When I kiss you again, my brother, you will have died 
upon earth, and risen again to us." 

Tenderly and lovingly the angel sank down upon the battle 
field, where was now but one youthful warrior, whose shattered 
breast still feebly heaved. No one was near the hero but his 
bride, whose hot kisses he could no longer feel; and her moans 
of grief were as unheard by him as the distant battle-cry. 
Suddenly the angel hovered over them, and assuming to the eyes 
of the dying youth the form of his bride, he drew with a tender 
kiss the wounded soul from the torn body, and gave it to his 
brother. That brother gave it a second kiss in heaven, and then 
it smiled again. Like a beam of light, the Angel of the Last 
Hour entered the untenanted body, penetrated the stiffening frame, 
and sent out once more the warm stream of life from the pulseless 
heart. But how wonderfully did his incarnation affect him! 
His eyes of light were dimmed in this new and strange tangle 
of nerves. His thoughts, formerly so rapid, now wandered idly 
through the murky atmosphere of the brain. The soft, odorous 
wave of color, a purple and autumnal haze, which until now 
had hovered over and around him, suddenly vanished, and sur- 
rounding objects stood out in the hot air with a burning, painful 
glare. All his perceptions were dimmer, yet stormier and closer 
to his essence. They seemed to him mere instincts. Hunger 
tore him, thirst burned in him, and pain pierced his lacerated 
breast. Ah, his bleeding, shattered breast! His first breath 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 17 

was his first sigh, and it was for the heaven he had left. "Is 
I this the death of mortals?" thought he; but he saw not the 
I promised token ; saw not the angel ; saw not the radiant sky ; and 
I he knew that it was only life. 

Towards evening the earthly strength of the angel failed, and it 
seemed to him that a fiery ball danced around his head, for Sleep 
had sent her messengers. His thoughts moved, as it were, from 
; an atmosphere of sunshine, into one of reeking flame. The 
shadows of past events eddied and spun, strange and colossal, 
through his brain. An unmanageable, ever-increasing flood of 
ideas dashed over him, for Dream sent her messengers. Closer 
and closer round him, Sleep folded her mantle; and, sunk in the 
grave of night, he lay alone like the mortals whom he pitied. 
But then thou didst come to him, heavenly Vision, with 
I thy thousand mirrors, and showedst to him in every one a circle 
i of angels, and the beaming heaven. And the earthly body, with 
all its pain, was forgotten. "Ah!" he thought, in ecstacy, 
"death came to me with sleep." But, yet again he waked with 
his weary breast covered with blood, and looked on the earth 
; and the night, and thought : "It was not death, but only its image 
and shadow, although I saw the starry heavens and the angels." 
The bride of the departed hero did not know that in the breast 
of her beloved dwelt an angel : she still loved the clay which 
her lover no longer tenanted, and held the hands of him who 
was in reality rapt from her. But the angel returned the love 
of the deceived heart with a human passion that was jealous of 
his own form. He wished to live as long as she, and to possess 
her love, until in heaven she should one day forgive the fond 
artifice by which she had been drawn to the heart of at once an 
angel and a lover. But death came first to her. Grief had bent 
too low the head of this frail flower, and it lay broken in the 
grave. She left the weeping angel, not as the sun, which, before 
the eyes of all nature, sinks into the ocean, dashing its flame- 
tinged waves to heaven; but rather like the calm moon, which 
draws a vapor, silvered by her rays, around her, and so sinks to 
rest. Death sent his gentle sister, Unconsciousness, before him. 
3 



18 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

She passed over the heart of the bride, and the warm figure 
became rigid; the roses in her cheeks withered ; the white snow 
of that winter under which the spring of eternity grows green 
covered her forehead and hands. Then a tear burned its way 
from the angeFs eye ; and, as he thought of the loved one, his 
heart seemed to become one great tear, like the pearl in the shell 
of the mussel. But the bride, wakening to a last gleam of con- 
sciousness, drew him to her heart, and fixing her eyes upon 
him, said as she did so, "Now I am with thee, my brother." 
Then it seemed to the angel that his heavenly brother must 
have given him the token of death ; but no beams of light 
surrounded him, only a great darkness; and he sighed and 
thought: "This is not death, but only the agony mortals 
feel for their lost ones. O, miserable man!" he cried, "how 
can you bear your wretchedness ? How can you grow old when 
the circle of youthful forms around you is first broken and then 
entirely gone ! when the graves of your friends are but stepping- 
stones to your own, and when a wretched old age is often ended 
on the cold battle field ! How can your hearts endure it ?" 

The body of the departed hero bore the tender angel amid 
harsh humanity, its injustice, its conflict of crime and passion. 
Around his form was laid, by allied powers, that fiery girdle 
which binds together a part of the world with festering thongs 
drawn ever tighter by the Great. He saw the claws of blazoned, 
heraldic beasts fasten on their fluttering prey, and heard these 
feebly flap their weakened wings. He saw the whole earth 
enveloped in the black, slimy coils of the serpent Vice, which 
strikes its poisoned fangs deep into the breast of man, and there 
leaves its venom. Ah, how the hot sting of hatred must have 
pierced that tender heart which had lived for an eternity among 
sympathizing angels. The holy soul, filled with love, must 
have shrunk in terror at its own pain. "Ah," he said, "mortal 
death is agony." But this was not death, for no angel appeared 
to him. In but a few days he wearied of and longed to leave a 
life which we endure for half a century. The westering sun 
wooed his kindred spirits. His wounded breast wakened him 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 19 

with pain. He went, with the evening breeze upon his pale cheeks, 
to the church-yai*d — the green back-ground of life — where was 
laid the clay of the gentle souls that he had formerly released. 
He stood in an agony of longing by the grave of his unspeak- 
ably dear one, and gazed at the sinking sun. He threw his 
racked body upon her sacred resting-place, and thought : "Thou 
too, O tortured breast, would have lain here and given no more 
pain, had I not kept thee still alive." Then he pondered 
dreamily on man's sad life, and the writhings of his own frame 
showed him with what agony man renders up his valor and his 
life; which last pang he had spared the noble soul, first tenant of 
his body. Deeply did the nobility of man move him; and he 
wept in his measureless love for those who, amid the demands of 
a stern necessity, amid lowering clouds and heavy mists that hang 
over their painful life-path, turn not away from the star of duty ; 
but stretch out their loving arms through the darkness to every 
heart-broken one they meet, hoping all things, for the sun 
but sinks in the Old World to rise in the New. The 
angel's deep emotion opened his wound, and blood, the tears of 
the soul, flowed from his heart over the beloved grave. The 
failing body sank in an ecstacy toward the cherished one. The 
tears of joy in his eyes made the sun seem floating in a rosy 
sea; far-off echoes, as if the earth were being drawn through 
sounding ether, rang through the moist splendor. Then a dark 
cloud, or twilight passed over the angel, and he was over- 
come with sleep. And now the starry heavens opened and 
enfolded him, and myriad angels flamed forth. "Art thou again 
here, deceptive vision ?" he said. But the Angel of the First 
Hour glided through the light and gave him the token of the 
kiss, and said : "That was death, O eternal brother and heavenly 
friend." And the young warrior and his bride softly echoed 
the words. 



20 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



A ST. MARYAN'S VOYAGE ACROSS THE 
ATLANTIC. 



Steamer "Neckar," July 3, 1881. 
My Dearest N. : — As we hope by the day after to-morrow 
to see land, I must begin to get my letter ready to send back 
from Southampton, where we touch, and land some passengers, 
before going on to Bremen. * * * We sailed out of New 
York harbor on the afternoon of June 25th, in very good spirits. 
By keeping on deck all day, not going down to dinner or tea, I 
managed to keep from absolute sickness; but Miss N., who went 
down to her dinner, was obliged to beat a hasty retreat to the 
state-room, where she was rather under the weather for a while. 
We both passed a very comfortable night, however, not waking 
till pretty late the next morning, which, it was very hard to 
realize, was Sunday. We had no service, and were entertained 
at intervals during the day by music not at all religious in its 
character, nor yet very pleasant to the ear. Miss N. and I were 
thrown at once into the best and pleasantest society on board. 
* • * * Speaking of our pleasant companions at table, I am 
reminded that I never saw so many meals before : breakfast at 
eight, to which I never come, taking a piece of bread on deck 
with me; lunch at half past twelve, which I don't often eat 
either, as, whenever I go down, I am sure to find a dish of fried 
eels (imagine it!) right in front of my place; dinner at five, 
which lasts about two hours, with the different courses, and part 
of which I usually attend; and, finally, tea at half past eight 
o'clock, which I never take. Sunday and Monday would have 
passed very quietly away, smooth seas and fair weather, but that 
on the middle of Monday a frightful event (you can't call it an 
accident) took place. While many passengers were seated quietly 
on deck, in groups, some reading, some talking or otherwise 
amusing themselves, the cry rose, "Man overboard!" Every 
one, as the little boy next me says, "ran about like mad ;" the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 21 

ship was stopped as soon as possible, life-preservers thrown out, 
a boat sent out, but — all in vain, no traces of the man were 
found. He had undoubtedly committed suicide. He was a 
steerage passenger, and was seen to throw some letters overboard, 
and then, too quickly for prevention, to jump into the sea. The 
most frightful part of all was the slight impression it seemed to 
make on us all. The boat was recalled after a while, the steamer 
speeded again on her course, and all returned to their occupations 
and amusements, apparently as carelessly and easily as before. 
I think, though, that they really did feel a gloom cast over them 
by the dreadful event. I am sure, I did. When we woke up 
on Wednesday morning, we found ourselves tossing about in a 
dense fog, on a pretty rough sea, and feeling, I can assure you, 
not at all comfortable. The fog-horn (the Siren, as they call her) 
has scarcely ceased to blow at intervals, day and night, since then, 
and the days have seemed very long and wretched. This morning, 
however, the fog has lifted a little, permitting us to see a short 
distance around and in front of us. This has not been at all 
cheering, as the captain had gone two hundred miles out of 
the way in order to avoid certain fog-banks, thus making us a 
day longer on the yovage. 

Monday, July 4th. I continue my letter on the "glorious 
Fourth," and under a more favorable sky and better auspices 
than yesterday. Our hearts were very much cheered this morning 
by beholding once more the dear old sun trying to burst through 
the thick veils of fog that have hung so devotedly around us. 
The weather has really been very rough, the sea dashing away 
up, even over the deck sometimes, and high, strong wind blow- 
ing, so that almost everybody (gentlemen, too) was sick, and 
the few of us who, in spite of very uncomfortable feelings, 
managed to keep on deck in preference to the cabin below, had 
neither energy nor inclination for anything but to lie in our 
steamer chairs and gaze stupidly at one another or at the dismal 
fog. In bright weather, though, it is very different, and we 
have quite a good deal of fun. We play shuffle-board on deck, 
a game something like hop-scotch; only, instead of hopping 



22 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

through the squares yourself, you send a round block through 
them by a sort of wooden shovel. (I am afraid that is far from 
clear, but it is the best I can do.) Then we chat together, or 
Mr. C. reads aloud to us from the Autocrat of the Breakfast- 
table, or Miss A. sings to us with her very lovely voice, or we walk 
around and amuse ourselves watching the sailors or the waves, 
looking out for porpoises, a good many of which we have seen, 
and whales, none of which I have been so fortunate as to see. 
To-day being the "glorious Fourth," I believe we are to have a 
grand dinner; though how it is to be a much larger affair than 
we have every day, I don't very easily see — that meal, which 
takes place at five o'clock, occupying about two hours, with ten 
courses, the greater number of which, being German concoctions 
that I don't understand, I pass by with calm and impassive eye. 
Tuesday, July 5th. We sighted land for the first time this morn- 
ing, and you can't imagine the happiness into which it threw 
everybody. We dressed very quickly and hurried on deck just 
in time to see, quite close at our side, the most beautiful headland 
on the English coast, the Lizard, rising abruptly and high out 
of the water, with the sun glancing brightly upon it, and crowds 
of white-winged gulls hovering round it. We will see land at 
intervals all day, touching in the afternoon at Southampton, and 
then steaming on again for Bremen, which we hope to reach by 
Thursday afternoon. You wouldn't realize on shore what a gay 
Fourth of July we had yesterday. Finding ourselves once more 
in bright, smooth seas, we were cheerful, indeed jolly, all day. 
When we came down to dinner at five o'clock, we found the 
table in festal array, the cakes set at intervals along it, decorated 
with sugar images of Liberty holding miniature flags of our 
nation. The bill of fare, always long and elaborate, was more 
magnificent than usual ; and, just before the first course of dessert 
came on, we had two or three short speeches; one very amusing 
and humorous from Dr. M., of New York, who is the most 
delightful man I almost ever saw. After convulsing every one 
with laughter during his speech, saying that he had been asked 
to preside at this little celebration of our national festival, and 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 23 

that he would do his best, try to act as a corkscrew to open the 
eloquence of others, he proposed to us the health of our com- 
mander, also that of his (the captain's) commander (pointing to 
the captain's wife), with the wish that the captain might be the 
king of sea-men, his wife a mermaid, his children sea-urchins, 
and all sea-urch (search) after the truth. Of course, it sounds 
rather tame when repeated, but, amid our festivity, it was very 
entertaining. The baud also gave us some national airs (Star- 
spangled Banner, etc.), which were taken up and sung by the 
company. Going on deck, after the dessert of blazing plum- 
pudding, colored ices, and other pretty and good things, we found 
the awning up, the sides of the deck filled in with brightly 
colored flags, so as to form a very pretty and picturesque ball- 
room. A large number of Chinese lanterns were ready for illu- 
mination, the band prepared to strike up, and we were just about 
to begin an old Virginia reel, when, presto! down came the fog 
and rain again ; our fine preparations must be taken down, and 
we must be obliged to "seek the seclusion which the cabin affords." 
In this case, however, it was a very pleasant retreat, for in the 
large dining-saloon, which was now cleared of the remains of our 
banquet, we entertained ourselves with music, card-playing, chat- 
ting, &c. * * * * I have just been up to look at the 
famous Eddystone light-house, or rather houses (for there are 
two of them, close together). From here they look as if they 
were very near the shore, but Dr. R. says they are far out at sea. 
* * We expect to reach Southampton this evening, whence 
this letter will be mailed to you. 



24 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



BLONDINE 



CHAPTER I. 

There was once a king whose name was Benin. People loved 
him because he was good ; the wicked feared him because he was 
just. His wife, the Queen Doucette, was as good as he. They 
had a little princess who was called Blondine on account of her 
beautiful golden hair, and she was good and lovely like her royal 
father and mother. Sad to relate, the poor queen died only a 
few months after the birth of Blondine, and the king wept for 
her long and bitterly. Blondine was too little to understand that 
her mother was dead, so she went on laughing and playing, eat- 
ing and sleeping peacefully. The king loved Blondine tenderly, 
and Blondine loved the king more than any one else in the world. 
The king gave her the prettiest playthings, the nicest candies, 
and the most delicious fruits. Blondine was very happy. 

One day some one told the king that all his subjects wanted 
him to marry again, so that he might have a son who could be 
king after him. The king at first refused, but finally yielded 
to the entreaties and desires of his subjects, and said to his Min- 
ister Leger: "Dear friend, the people wish to have me marry 
again. I am still so sad on account of the death of my poor wife 
Doucette, that I do not want to think about looking for another 
one. Take upon yourself the task of finding a princess who 
will make my poor Blondine happy. I do not ask anything 
more. Go, dear Leger; when you have found a perfect woman, 
ask her hand for me in marriage, and bring her here. 

Leger left immediately, went to the courts of all the kings, 
and saw many princesses who were ugly, deformed, or wicked; 
finally he arrived at the court of King Turbulent, who had a 
pretty, bright, and attractive daughter, who also appeared to be 
good. Leger found her so charming that he asked her hand in 
marriage for his King Benin, without finding out whether she 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 25 

was really good. Turbulent, delighted to rid himself of his 
daughter, who was wicked, jealous and proud, and who, moreover, 
annoyed him with her continual travelling, hunting and gadding, 
gave her at once to Leger to take back with him to the kingdom 
of King Benin. Leger left, taking Princess Fourbette and four 
thousand mules laden with her robes and jewels. 

They arrived at the court of King Benin, who had been 
informed, by a message, of their approach. The king came out 
to meet Princess Fourbette. He found her pretty, but far from 
having the good and gentle air of poor Doucette. When Four- 
bette saw Blondine she looked at her with eyes so full of spite, 
that poor Blondine, who was now three years old, began to cry. 

"What is the matter?" demanded the king. "Why does my 
good and gentle Blondine cry like a naughty child?" "Papa, 
dear papa," cried Blondine, hiding in the king's arms, " do not 
give me to that princess, I am afraid — she looks so cross." The 
king, surprised, glanced at Fourbette, who could not change the 
expression of her face so quickly as to prevent his seeing the 
terrible look that had so frightened Blondine. He immediately 
resolved to take care that Blondine should live away from the 
queen, and remain, as before, solely in the care of the nurse and 
the maid who had brought her up, and who loved her tenderly. 
So the queen rarely saw Blondine, and when by chance she met 
her she could not wholly hide the hate that she felt for her. 

At the end of a year the queen had a daughter, who was called 

Brunette on account of her coal-black hair. Brunette was pretty, 

but much less pretty than Blondine; she was, moreover, malicious 

like her mother; and she detested Blondine, upon whom she 

played all manner of tricks. She bit her, pinched her, pulled 

her hair, broke her playthings, and soiled her handsome dresses. 

Good little Blondine was never angry; she was always seeking 

excuses for Brunette. "Oh, papa," she would say to the king, 

"do not scold her, she is so little that she does not know that 

breaking my playthings gives me pain ; she is playing when she 

bites me; she pulls my hair only in fun," etc. King Benin 

kissed his daughter Blondine, and said nothing; but he saw very 
4 



26 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

well that Brunette was doing all these things from naughtiness, 
and that Blondine excused her in the kindness of her heart. 
And he loved Blondine more and more, and Brunette less and 
less. The queen Fourbette, who was very clear sighted, saw all 
this very well • but she hated more and more the innocent Blon- 
dine, and if she had not feared the wrath of King Benin, she 
would have made her the most unhappy little girl in the world. 
The king had given orders that Blondine should never be alone 
with the queen; and, as it was known that he was as just as he 
was good, and that he punished disobedience severely, the queen 
herself did not dare to disobey. 



CHAPTER II. 

BLONDINE LOST. 

Blondine was now seven years old, and Brunette three. The 
king had given to Blondine a pretty little carriage drawn by 
two ostriches, and driven by a little page ten years old, who was 
a nephew of Blondine's nurse. The page, whose name was 
Gourmandinet, dearly loved Blondine, with whom he had always 
played, and who had done him a thousand kindnesses. But he 
had one dreadful fault; he was so greedy, and so fond of dainties, 
that he would do anything for a bag of sweetmeats. Blondine 
would often say to him, "I love you, Gourmandinet, but I do 
not like to see you so greedy. I entreat you, correct that ugly 
fault, which is despised by everybody." 

Gourmandinet would kiss her hand and promise to correct it, 
but he continued to steal cakes from the kitchen, and sweetmeats 
from the pantry, and was often whipped for his disobedience 
and greediness. Queen Fourbette soon found out the charges 
that were brought against him, and she thought she could make 
use of the ugly fault of the little page in bringing about the 
disappearance of Blondine. This was her plan: The garden 
where Blondine rode in the carriage drawn by ostriches, with 
Gourmandinet as coachman, was separated by a wire fence from 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 27 

a beautiful and vast forest, called the forest of lilacs, because it 
was filled with lilacs in bloom all the year round. No one went 
into this forest. People well knew that it was enchanted, and 
that if any one once entered, he could never go out again. 
Gourmandinet knew the dreadful character of the forest, and had 
been strictly forbidden ever to drive Blondine's carriage towards 
that side, for fear that she might, without knowing it, cross the 
border line. 

A good many times the king had wished to build a wall the 
whole length of the line, or at least to strengthen the fence so that 
it would be impossible for any one to pass through, but as fast 
as the workmen could pile up stones or build a fence, an unknown 
power lifted them and caused them to disappear. 

Queen Fourbette now gained the friendship of Gourmandinet, 
by giving him each day some new sweetmeat. When she had 
made him so greedy that he could not be satisfied by the bon- 
bons, the jellies, and the cakes that she gave him without stint, 
she called him to her, and said: "It depends upon yourself, 
whether you have a box full of bonbons and nice things, or 
never taste another one." "Never taste another one! Oh, 
madam, I should die of grief. Speak, madam, what must I do 
to avoid such a misfortune?" 

"You must," replied the queen, looking at him fixedly, "drive 
the princess close to the forest of lilacs." " I cannot, madam, 
the king has forbidden it." 

"Oh! You cannot? Good-bye, then. I shall not give you 
any more dainties, and I shall forbid any one in the house giving 
you any." 

"Oh! madam," said Gourmandinet, weeping, "do not be so 
cruel, give me some other order that I can obey ?" 

"I repeat that I wish you to drive Blondine close to the forest 
of lilacs, and encourage her to descend from the carriage and 
cross the border line and enter the forest." 

"But, madam," responded Gourmandinet, turning pale, "if 
the princess enters that forest, she will never come out again ; 
you know that it is enchanted; to take my princess there would 
be to take her to certain death." 



28 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

"For the third and last time, will you drive Blondine there? 
Make your choice ; either an immense box of bonbons, that I will 
renew every month, or else never any more sugar-plums or tarts." 

"But how shall I escape the terrible punishment that the king 
will inflict upon me?" 

"Don't trouble yourself about that; as soon as you have made 
Blondine enter the forest, come and find me. I will see that 
you get away safely with your bonbons, and I will take care of 
your future." 

" O ! madam, have some pity ! do not compel me to cause the 
death of my dear mistress." 

" You hesitate, you poor little wretch ? what difference does it 
make to you what becomes of Blondine ? Bye and bye you are 
to enter the service of Brunette, and I will see that you are then 
always supplied with bonbons." 

"Gourmandinet thought a few minutes longer and decided, 
alas, to sacrifice his good little mistress for a few pounds of bon- 
bons. All the rest of the day and all night he hesitated about 
committing so great a crime, but the certainty of never being 
able to satisfy his greedy appetite, if "he refused to execute the 
command of the queen, and the hope that he might some day 
find Blondine again while speaking to some powerful fairy, put 
an end to his irresolution and decided him to obey the queen. 

The next day Blondine called for her carriage and got in, after 
kissing the king and promising him that she would return in 
two hours. The garden was a large one. Gourmandinet drove 
the ostriches to the side opposite to the forest of lilacs. 

When they were so far away that they could no longer be seen 
from the palace, he changed his course and proceeded towards 
the boundary line of the forest. He was sad and silent; his 
meditated crime weighed upon his heart and conscience. 

"What is the matter, Gourmandinet?" asked Blondine, "you 
do not speak ; are you sick ? " 

"No, princess, I am quite well." 

"How pale you are! Tell me, what is the matter, my poor 
Gourmandinet. I promise that I will do everything in my 
power to make you happy." 



ST. MARTS MUSE. 29 

This kindness of Blondine's softened the heart of Gourman- 
dinet, and he again thought of saving her; but the recollection 
of the bonbons promised by Fourbette, dispelled this good 
thought. Before he could answer, the ostriches touched the 
border line of the forest. 

"Oh! what beautiful lilacs!" cried Blondine. "What sweet 
fragrance! How I wish I had a big bouquet of them to give to 
papa ! Get down, Gourmandinet, and gather some branches for 
me." 

"I cannot get down, princess, the ostriches might run away 
while I am gone." 

" Well, what if they do ? I could myself drive them back to 
the palace." 

" But the king would scold me for leaving you, princess. It 
would be better for you to go yourself and choose your flowers." 

"That is true," said Blondine; "I should be very sorry to 
cause you a scolding, my poor Gourmandinet." 

"And, saying these words, she sprang lightly from the carriage, 
stepped over the border and began to pick the lilacs." 

Then Gourmandinet shuddered, and was troubled; remorse 
entered his heart ; he wished to repair the evil by calling Blon- 
dine back ; but although she was not more than ten feet from 
him, and he could see her perfectly, she did not hear his voice, 
and wandered deeper and deeper into the enchanted forest. For 
a long time he could see her picking lilacs, but at last she 
vanished from his sight. 

Then he wept for his crime, cursed his greediness, and detested 
Queen Fourbette. Finally he bethought himself that the time 
was approaching when Blondine should return to the palace; he 
re-entered the stables by the back way, and hurried to the queen, 
who awaited him. Seeing him pale and his eyes red from the 
bitter tears of remorse, she conjectured that Blondine was lost. 

" Is it done ?" said she. 

Gourmandinet bowed his head; he had not the strength to 
speak. 



30 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

" Come," said she, " here is your recompense." 

And she showed him a box full of bonbons of every descrip- 
tion. She ordered a servant to lift the box and bind it on one 
of the mules that that had brought her jewels. 

" I entrust this box to Gourmandinet to take to my father. 
Go, Gourmandinet, and return in a month for another." 

At the same time she placed a purse in his hand. Gournman- 
dinet mounted the mule without a word. He started at a gallop. 
Soon the mule, who was vicious and wilful, impatient of the 
weight of the chest, began to kick and rear, and finally threw 
Gourmandinet and the box to the earth. Gourmandinet, who 
could not keep his seat either on a horse or mule, fell; his head 
struck the stones, and he died from the blow. 

So he never gained the recompense that he had hoped for his 
crime, for he did not even taste the bonbons that the queen had 
given him. No one regretted him, for no one had loved him 
except poor Blondine, whom we will rejoin in the forest of lilacs. 

[to be continued.] 



REGUL US 



Among Rome's many noble sons, the one whose character 
shone forth most gloriously, was Regulus. He was, indeed, a 
true Roman — noble, brave and full of patriotism. 

When quite advanced in years, he was appointed leader of the 
Roman forces against the Carthaginians, in the first Punic war. 
The Romans had been very successful in Sicily; but now they 
felt that they could humble the power of Carthage much more 
in Africa; so, having found a Carthaginian boat stranded on 
their shores, they fitted out a fleet in imitation of it, and prepared 
to trust themselves to the winds and seas for the first time. 
The importan't command of this fleet was intrusted to Regulus 
and Manlius. Success attended them everywhere ; for, although 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 31 

the Carthaginians were the first sailors in the world, the Romans 
were the bravest and the best soldiers. It was not long, how- 
i ever, before Manlius was recalled to carry on the war in Sicily, 
; and Regulus, with a small force, was directed to go into Africa. 
I Soon this great general spread terror throughout the land; the 
whole country was devastated, and every one panic-stricken. 
At last, the Carthaginians, overcome by their dread of the Roman 
name, sent messengers to Regulus to sue for peace. And here 
the nobleness of his soul shone forth; for although he knew that 
his wife and children were suffering greatly on account of his 
absence, and all his personal affairs were going badly, yet he 
dictated such terms of peace as he knew the Carthaginians would 
refuse; because he felt that if he continued the war (the Car- 
thaginians being now nearly exhausted) he should in time sub- 
ject them to the Roman power. The Carthaginians, therefore, 
unable to procure peace at such a price, obtained help from the 
Lacedemonians, and a great battle was fought near Carthage. 
Every one knows the disastrous results of this battle; the 
Romans were not only defeated with great slaughter, but Regu- 
lus was taken prisoner. And now this noble man, who but 
a short time before had been conqueror in this very land, was 
left to languish in prison four years, hardly seeing the light of 
day, hearing sometimes of the success of his people, and some- 
times of that of the enemy. How he yearned to see his own dear 
ones again ! how he longed to be once again on Roman soil ! At 
last the Carthaginians, worn out by the length of the war, 
determined to send messengers to Rome concerning the exchange 
of captives and the making of peace. To accomplish this they 
sent Regulus with some Carthaginian ambassadors to Rome; 
Regulus having first promised, that, if he was unable to obtain 
his request, he would return to Carthage. With what emotions 
did this old man leave the shores of Carthage, his prison! and 
how his heart bounded within him as he approached those of his 
own dear land, which he had expected never to see again ! 
When he reached the gates of the city the noble old man paused, 
and sent for the Senate ; lest, should he meet his friends and 



32 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

relations, he should be turned from his purpose. Did not the 
hearts of all thrill as they again looked on the face of him who 
had done and suifered so much for them ? 

When Regulus made known his message, the Senate at first 
determined to comply with the request of the Carthaginians, 
for they would thus redeem their General. They then asked 
Regulus to give his opinion concerning what they should do. 
But he refused, saying he was no longer a Roman Senator, but 
a Carthaginian prisoner. On being pressed, he told them by no 
means to give up the war; for he was now an old man, and could 
no longer be of any service to them, whereas the Carthaginian 
captives were all youths, and could fight well. It was with great 
reluctance that the Romans allowed this noblest of their gen- 
erals to go from them forever: but Regulus, fearful lest he 
should break his promise, hastened to leave home without even 
seeing his friends; to leave the home of his fathers and of all 
that was dear to him, for certain death in the enemy's country. 
Long did he stand looking at that shore until he could see it no 
longer; it had passed from his sight forever. 

He returned to Carthage, and when the ambassador told what 
advice he had given, the Carthaginians were so filled with wrath 
that they exposed Regulus to the most exquisite torture, and then 
put an end to his life in a fearful manner. 

Such was the death of one who devoted his whole heart and 
soul to the interests of his country, never allowing one wish of 
his own to interfere with his duty. 



JACK FROST. 



Jack Frost is a giant, who lives on the summit of a high 
mountain in Iceland. His palace is built of ice and snow, and 
the rays of the sun make it look like a rainbow. Jack Frost 
sleeps all summer; but when the first cold night warns him that 
winter is near, he is awake and ready for work. 

One clear night in November, Jack Frost awoke from his 
summer's sleep, and set forth on his travels. At first he could 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 33 

i 

find nothing to do but to nip the toes of a few belated travellers; 
but, after awhile, he had almost more work than he could accom- 
plish. He came to a forest, and found the chestnut trees groan- 
ing beneath their weight of nuts; so he kissed the burrs, and at 
the first touch of his icy lips, they fell with the nuts to the 
ground. He next came to a garden, where a few poor flowers 
had survived their summer friends. Cruel Jack! He killed 
them without mercy. In a crowded city, where that dread pesti- 
lence, the yellow fever, had raged through all the long hot days, 
Jack Frost rested. His pure cold breath cleansed the air from 
all its impurities, and the inhabitants of the city called down 
many blessings on the kind old giant. 

But it was almost day, and Jack Frost had more work to do. 
So he left the city, and proceeded on his way, spreading mantles 
of silvery white over the roofs of the houses, and giving to each 
blade of grass a shining silver armour. He breathed on the 
window panes, and graceful ferns and waving trees appeared, 
till it seemed as if the glass were the bright web on which the 
fairies wove their lace. 

But the goddess Aurora was already touching, with her rosy 
fingers, the gates of day; and the tramp of the fiery steeds of 
Apollo was heard in the far east. Now, Jack Frost is a loyal 
subject of the Queen of Night, and will not stay to be kissed 
by her rival; so he sped away to his mountain home, to wait till 
the starry herald should again summon him to the Court of his 
Queen. 



34 ST. MARY'S MUSE 



VINETA. 



I have read that long years ago where the waves of the North 
Sea wash the shore of Germany, was the ancient city of Vineta. 
According to the custom and necessity of the times it was walled 
in; battlement rose on battlement and tower on tower, till they 
seemed to touch the sky. So close to the water's edge was Vineta 
built, that the waves broke at the foot of its walls and the even- 
ing lullaby of the little ones mingled with the dash and surge of 
the billows. 

Without, for miles, the sea was covered with the vessels of 
this busy city. The tall masts were as a great forest, and gaily 
among them floated the flags of every nation. Well might 
Vineta be called "Queen of the Northern Sea." And old 
Ocean seemed to love the city, protecting her from her foes at all 
times, bearing her commerce and increasing her greatness. On 
bright days the sunlit waves kissed her feet and whispered sweet 
words in her ear; to the wealthy citizens promises of greater 
prosperity; to the statesmen, of other shores where Vineta might 
yet hold sway; to the poet, bright visions of a perfect land, an 
Allantis, he little dreaming that his beloved city should share 
the last sad fate of the " Buried Island ; " and to all, as it encir- 
cled the city in its shining arms, the sea sang "I will ever guard 
and keep you." Yet through the song ran ever a strain of sad- 
ness. O, Northern Sea! did'st thou mean to warn the children 
of thy love? 

As from the sea the city had learned her lessons of energy and 
life, so from its purple waves and crested billows it had dreamed 
of beauty until it embodied it in all its forms. Everywhere 
were graceful lines and rich coloring ; even the trees were planted 
with regard to the effect of light and shade. Here rose an old 
gray palace shaded by oaks that had stood the storms of centuries, 
and there, in the shadow of the Guild Hall, nestled a little 
church surrounded by the quiet " City of the Dead." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 35 

Over all towered the grand Cathedral. Strangers came from 
afar to see the many wonders, and pilgrims to worship at the 
shrines. 

But with success and power came pride and arrogance, until 
just retribution fell upon the city. 

It was Easter morning; and as the glad rays of the rising 
sun touched with gold the dark waters, Vineta's bells rang out 
triumphant peals, while priests and choirs took up the strain till 
church and grand Cathedral rang with praise and thanksgiving. 
Suddenly the tones are hushed. Whence comes this roar of 
rushing waters and crash of falling walls? A mighty wind has 
risen, as by magic, and the waves, but now so calm, are rolling 
mountain high. The very foundations of the earth seem giving 
way — and the city sinks, lower and lower — the sea holds her, 
and will keep her forever. 

No sound breaks the stillness of her streets save the songs of 
the mermaids as they braid their long locks in the king's cham- 
bers, and the enchanting strains from the golden harps of the 
sea-fairies, who dance in the palace halls. Yet sometimes the 
sea-god yields his sway, and, like a spirit haunting the upper 
world, Vineta appears to a few favored mortals. 

The waves are again tinted by the rays of the sun, now slowly 
sinking. Lo! the billows are stilled and from them rise cross- 
crowned spires, towers, and battlements, till the whole city rests 
upon the water. The slate roofs gleam in the fading light, the 
sails and flags on the masts droop listlessly, calm and still Vineta 
rests on the waters a perfect vision of the long ago. Hark ! from 
the bells liquid notes again float across the waters. Tis but a 
moment ! the vision is gone with the setting sun ! 

And the lonely fisherman tells us that often, as day closes, he 
hears ♦ 

"From the sea's deep, deep abysses, 
Evening bells chime soft and low, 
Of that olden city telling, 
Lost and sunken long ago." 



36 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

I 



CHAUCER. 



"I consider Chaucer as a genial day in an English spring." 
Musical language, great power of description, tenderness of senti- 
ment, wonderful sympathy, and an ardent love of nature, are 
the qualities by which we recognize this great poet. 

Chaucer found the language of the people of Britain a mix- 
ture of the Celtic, Danish, Saxon, and Norman tongues. Nor- 
man and French was the language of the Court and polite 
society, while the rude, though strong and vigorous, Saxon speech 
was used only by the inferior classes. Books were written either 
in French or Latin. Chaucer determined to give the people a 
voice in literature, and out of the confusion, formed a language, 
rich, musical, strong, and vigorous, which, growing steadily, has, 
at last, attained the perfection of the present day. 

He was born in London, in 1328. He was evidently of aris- 
tocratic family, since he was for some time in the service of the 
wife of the Duke of Clarence, and married one of the Queen's 
maids of honor. In 1359 he was taken prisoner by the French, 
but was ransomed, and returned to England in 1360. At differ- 
ent periods of his life he held many important offices. He 
visited Italy, where he became acquainted with Petrarch, whose 
writings did much towards changing the literary taste of Europe. 
He was elected representative of Kent in 1386, and, in the poli- 
tical and social confusion of that year lost all his offices, and 
fled from England. After a brief exile he returned, and, some 
say, was compelled to submit to the bitter humiliation of impris- 
onment. He lived in accordance with his varying circumstances, 
and we have reason to believe the latter years of his life were 
clouded with embarrassment. Chaucer received the protection 
and patronage of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, partly on 
account of his marriage with a sister of the Duke's wife, and 
partly because of the similarity of their political views. In his 
religious opinions, Chaucer agreed to some extent with Wycliffe. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 37 

He despised the corrupt men of the Church, and did not hesitate 
to expose them to ridicule ; but it is difficult to determine how 
far he sympathized with the theological doctrines of the man 
who was considered an arch heretic. 

The plots of Chaucer's books were not original. His works 
may be divided into two great classes; those of the Romance 
type, and those bearing the impress of the Italian Renaissance. 
Chaucer's fame as a poet rests chiefly upon the Canterbury 
Tales. We know not which to admire most; the brilliant descrip- 
tion, the sparkling humor, the deep pathos, or the fidelity to 
nature. These stories are told by representatives of all classes 
of society; and more than anything else, give us an insight into 
the manners, thoughts, and feelings of the fourteenth century. 
In the "Cuckoo" and the "Nightingale" Chaucer shows his love 
for the songs of birds, and appreciation of the beauties of nature. 

One imagines the great poet as a fine looking man, with a tall, 
commanding figure, noble head, a merry, twinkling eye, and a 
face expressive of 

" A mind at peace with all below." 

We imagine his portrait could scarce be commonplace, yet how 
different is the reality. The miniature left us by his contempo- 
rary, Occleve, shows us a corpulent figure, and an ordinary face 
with a downward look and a grave, abstracted air. 

Several have attempted to modernize his language, but only 
Wordsworth could enter into his feelings, and only he has 
attained any degree of success. It is principally through Words- 
worth's translation that we are acquainted with the charming 
story " Little Hugh of Lincoln," full of tenderness, and of the 
simple faith and constancy of childhood; and with the pathetic 
story of Griselda, the finest picture of wifely patience and devo- 
tion in the language. 

To fully enjoy Chaucer, he must be read in the language in 
which he wrote. He is indeed " Nature'e own poet." 



EDITORIAL. 



With the beginning of the advent term of '81-'82 our school 
magazine passes into the hands of a new corps of editresses, viz., j 
the class of '82 ; and, as we review the steady improvement in I 
the little periodical from its beginning to the present day, we I 
tremble lest, in our hands, it should fall short of the standard I 
already attained/ Still we are strong in numbers, and in the J 
corps of contributors who have promised their willing aid; and 
we only ask that our readers will regard our efforts with the same 
indulgence that they have given to those of our elder sisters. 

It has been thought best to change the character of the Muse 
so far as to make its issue quarterly instead of monthly, and our 
little messenger will therefore be sent out at Thanksgiving and 
Midwinter, at Easter and Whitsuntide,, Its size will be that of 
the "double-number" of last June. We do not wish to give 
our dear subscribers one page less of reading matter. Rather, 
we hope by extra diligence to increase their interest and win a 
heartier approval. But to write editorials and book notices we 
must keep apace with the news and literature of the day. We 
wish to have our work intrinsically good, and acceptable to 
more than the indulgent home-circle. All this will take time ; 
and time, to school girls, is a precious commodity. Therefore, 
four times a year will we greet you, O friends, and wish you all 
the pleasures of the season. 

The Pierian Club is no more. One by one its members have 
left these pleasant halls, some to occupy brilliant positions in 
society, others to be the sunshine and comfort of home. One 
has a school amid the lovely mountains of this State; two have 
returned to St. Mary's as honored teachers; and one has gone 
"across the sea to Germanie," there to perfect the musical talent 
that has so often been our delight. An article from her pen will 
be found in the present number, the first of a series of letters 
from "Our Own Special Correspondent." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 39 

But why with the work of the club do we not adopt its name f 
Alas! " We are seven!" 

Every "old girl's" first remark on her return to school was 
"I hear we have so many improvements!" And indeed they 
are many ! The first that strikes the eye is the new flooring. It 
is a pleasure to look at the smooth, white boards, though indeed 
there is not so much variety in them as in the old. There, the 
students of Physical Geography could study the nature of little 
hills and valleys. There, the idle astronomer might find inky 
constellations and galaxies unknown to the midnight sky. There, 
little pit-falls afforded fair excuse for undue noise in hall or par- 
lor. But ah ! the dancing ! At that thought every regret flies 
away; and as our feet glide over the smooth surface, we feel 
indeed that our lines are cast in pleasant places. 

Then there is the new Infirmary. Far away among the trees, 
where no breeze could blow over to us any " infection," should 
such there be, is the pretty little cottage devoted to the sick. So 
cosy and comfortable does it seem, that one of our girls (a 
naughty little Junior, of course) was heard to say, that she wished 
she could go there. But we Seniors hope that it may long 
remain unoccupied, and only serve, as it does now, for a rendez- 
vous, on whose steps nuts and apples and gossip may be dis- 
cussed. 

The new flooring has proved beyond a question the degeneracy 
of the present age. When the old was removed it was found that, 
in spite of the wear and tear of forty years, it was still twice as 
thick as that now used; and, barring the snags and grooves of 
its upper surface, it was as good as ever. But grooves, though 
unpleasant in a parlor, may be tolerated in an outdoor walk, and 
walks were made; long walks and broad walks; to the Infirmary, 
to the kitchen, to the Chapel. And grooves and snags have 
disappeared, for boarding was plenty. With the flooring of such 
a house as St. Mary's, what could not be done? Coal-bins have 
been built, picturesque coal-bins whose sides resemble the 
fashionable blocked ribbon — who will explain why ? But one 
thing remains a mystery. What has become of the old stairs? 



40 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

We have a new furnace to heat the dining-room, the school- 
room, and the Senior recitation -room. It is very useful, to 
be sure, and the registers are quite an ornament. But when 
"Uncle Wash" used to bring in coal there was a pause in the 
recitations, time to rally our exhausted powers, or even to escape 
our " turn " altogether. And then there was the dear forbidden 
delight of toasting crackers for lunch. No more shall our 
teachers scent from afar their delicate odor ; no more shall we 
have disorder marks for such delinquencies. Alas, the "pleasant 
days that are no more ! " 

We lack space to dwell particularly on our beautiful Chapel 
carpet and curtains, our three new pianos, the rearrangement, 
cataloguing, and numbering of the Library, and its new books. 
By the by, a little fairy has whispered that there are more books 
coming, as well as other new things we have heardof. Some of 
these last we had come to regard as myths ; but one at least has 
become a reality, the new inkstands and covers that appeared 
last week. 

Indeed, our dear old school has put on an entirely new dress 
to welcome her daughters. She smiles upon us with fresh white 
paint. She cares for our eyes with orthodox blue shades. We 
loved her before, and anything that had materially changed her 
well-known features could not have pleased us. But she only 
grows, like other mothers, prettier and more kindly with each 
succeeding year. 

St. Mary's has opened this year with unusually large num- 
bers. On Thursday, September 8th, the evening roll-call showed 
forty-eight names. By Monday the list numbered fifty-three, 
and each succeeding day added three or four, till the week closed 
with sixty-seven girls in the house. Before fair week, we num- 
bered seventy- three. There have been in past years greater 
numbers than these, but never have they come so promptly, and 
so earnest to do their duty. Several girls have arrived since 
fair week, and five have places engaged ; but the cry now rises 
upon each arrival, "Where is she to go?" Still, places are 
found, and our welcome is not exhausted. Come on, girls ! The 
more, the merrier! 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 41 

It seemed as if cool weather would never come. The air grew 
more and more sultry, and the dust thicker and thicker ; study 
was almost an impossibility. But we did the impossible, and closed 
our first month's work triumphantly, with forty-four girls in 
the first grade and twenty-seven in the second. Then came our 
reward. O, the delights of fair week! On Thursday morning 
the big omnibus drove up to the door, and the riding party, under 
the care of our Lady-Principal, set out for the fair grounds. 
The rest walked across the fields with Mr. Smedes. It is an 
open question, which party suffered most. We swallowed dust 
by the mouthful; it filled our nostrils and ears and eyes; it 
spoiled our dresses. But not our tempers! We were as merry 
a set of school-girls as ever had a holiday. We squeezed through 
the crowded halls, admired the flowers, the apples, the fancy 
work, criticised things we knew nothing about, and finally 
pushed our way to seats in the Grand Stand. The first public 
entertainment was to be the drill of the "Bingham boys." We 
looked around with a superior air of knowing all about it. Had 
they not visited us two days before, and drilled for our particular 
benefit in the grove, and had they not cheered us until we were 
ashamed to respond only by waving, and cheered lustily in 
return? But we were surprised into most hearty admiration as 
these boys, our brothers and cousins and intimate friends, went 
through their manual, fired, skirmished, retired, marched, 
wheeled, and countermarched like veterans. We are sure, indeed 
we have been told, that the first regiments in the country can do 
no better. We are proud of our brothers. 

We saw nothing of the races; we only learned later that some 
horse had won, which was exactly what we had expected. We 
were more interested in eatables, which, alas, we failed to find. 
We waited in the eating-room till patience was no longer a vir- 
tue, and then came home very hungry and rather cross. But 
dinner and rest restored us bodily and mentally, and at eight P. 
M. every girl was in the parlor to receive the guests of the evening. 
These were such of our parents and friends as had come to the 
city, with a very large proportion of " Binghamites." The band 
was in attendance; all the first floor was thrown open for prome- 



42 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

nading and dancing, and we enjoyed every minute till the witch- 
ing-hour arrived and farewells were said. It was unanimously 
pronounced the pleasantest " Reception " ever held at St. Mary's. 
On Friday we received "party-calls," or drove out with kind 
friends; but on Saturday we returned to our duties, and prepared 
lessons with all the more vigor for our two days' holiday. 

We have all been sick. Teachers and scholars, Rector and 
Lady-Principal, all succumbed to the intense heat, and for a fort- 
night everything was a burden. But then "Sister Eliza," the 
gentle Deaconess from the Diocese of Long Island, who is visit- 
ing us this winter, saw her opportunity; and with her beef-tea 
and wine, and pills and nostrums, she so cared for and coddled 
us, that we are all well again, and — spoiled. 

None of our girls will soon forget the joys of our frolicsome 
Halloween. No one had dreamed that we were to have any 
jollification. During the afternoon doleful maidens asked their 
teachers if they "thought Miss Czarnomska would let them have 
any fun," and were put off with evasive answers. One daring 
damsel, venturing to the sitting-room with a request that 
she might "have two eggs boiled, because, you know, to-night 
is Halloween," received a stern negative and retired discon- 
solate. Meanwhile, the apples and candy had been ordered, 
games talked over and prepared, the tea-hour hastened, and a few 
day-scholars, near neighbors, invited. The first suspicion arose 
when Sister Eliza was discovered instructing a select few how to 
bite an apple swinging from a string. Next the study-hour bell 
was rung a half hour earlier than usual ; then, confirmation sure! 
we were told to go upstairs and dress. By half past seven the 
fun had begun. 'The Seniors, with three powerful assistants in 
Miss Stone, Miss Stubbert and Miss McElroy, began a game of 
Dumb Crambo. In vain they acted, to our great delight, ale 
and pale and gale and fail and many other words. Our kind 
Professor having watched them for a few moments, suddenly 
appeared among the actors, and added greatly to their effect and 
the merriment of the audience. At last, in horrible discord, to 
the words Do, Re, Mi, the troupe sang the Scale and were 
applauded for their final success. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 43 

Then we played "towel" and "spin the platter" and redeemed 
forfeits. Dear Mademoiselle, ever ready to promote enjoyment, 
came in comic costume and obliged "Every man to do his duty." 
We bobbed for apples and jumped for them, ate candy and 
danced a shaker-dance, had our fortunes told and "followed our 
leader" till, tired out, we went to bed, voting that we never had 
had such a good time before. 

The next day was a glorious one. The pouring rain of the 
last twenty-four hours had laid the dust and washed the leaves; 
and the frost of the night had dressed the trees in glowing colors. 
At an early hour all who could spare the time assembled in the 
Chapel to dress it with leaves and grasses, or in the sitting-room 
to arrange the flowers for the altar; for this was All Saints Day, 
the dearest of all the Minor Festivals of the Church. And 
touching it was to see how our little ones, the veriest babes of 
the Church, who had known neither sorrow nor care, yet entered 
into the spirit of the day. Theirs were the most willing feet, 
the most active fingers. Theirs were the loudest voices in 
the grand processional. As its exultant tones filled the air, it 
seemed as if every heart must beat responsive to such strains. 
Every sense was satisfied ; the dreamy autumn air came through 
the open windows; the eye rested on the beauty of the flowers 
and the glory of the autumn leaves; the ear drank in the rich 
harmonies of the Choral Service; and the soul, upborne as on 
angel's wings, forgot earth and its sorrows and rejoiced, with 
those who have gone before, in their Lord, their Captain and 
their King, "singing Alleluia!" 



CURRENT TOPICS. 



" During the week ending September 25th, 10,1 48 immigrants landed at New- 
York." 

One may well ask what is to be the result of such vast immi- 
gration, encouraged as it is by the people and government of 
America. The result must in a measure depend on the character 



44 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

of the immigrants, and this, unhappily, is not high. Since the 
landing of Columbus, immigrants have poured into this country, 
more and more rapidly; until now, scarcely a ship arrives whose 
stern is not packed with men, women, and children, coming to 
seek their fortunes. 

These people are generally of the lowest class and perfectly 
ignorant. They hear that America is very rich, and think that 
all they have to do, is to pick up the gold; that it is an earthly 
paradise, where all is rest and plenty. Therefore, they have no 
idea of working. Coming into New York, dazzled by its beauty 
and the evidences of wealth, they say, "truly our dreams are 
realized." In leaving their country they have thought all their 
manual toil at an end, and that here they should receive the 
highest positions in the land. But very soon their hopes are 
dashed to the ground, and they realize that they must work as 
before, or starve. But few work, compared to the large numbers 
who, disappointed in every hope, turn to all that is evil. It 
seems as if the very worst of every nation come to perpetrate 
their deeds of darkness here. For instance, in Ireland the lower 
classes are continually rebelling. England has conquered them 
time and again, but never effectually subdued them. After each 
struggle thousands, fleeing from the grasp of the law, come here 
and are continually stirring up strife. Among them are found 
leaders for the large strikes, which so sap the strength of a nation. 
From Germany, perhaps the best governed country in the world, 
men discontented with their own country, come to try ours, as it 
is the latest. They bring with them their discontent, and alas! 
the skepticism of their Fatherland. Their influence has done 
much toward the infidelity now so broadcast among us. Russia 
sends many of her restless millions to our shores. The policy of 
the Nihilist is to destroy everything and give nothing in return, 
and he is indefatigable in pursuing it. Having tried to accom- 
plish his aim in Russia by the assassination of the Czar, and 
failed, he comes to America to see if he can be successful here. 
He pictures in gorgeous colors the glory of Russia when the 
Nihilist shall have become victorious, and tells us that our country 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 45 

could call herself truly free, were there but one to destroy the 
government, now grinding the people. As time passes and these 
teachings are repeated, there is one who thinks he will do the 
deed, so he brutally shoots our Chief-Magistrate. I thank God, 
there was scarcely a man who did not rise against that crime. 

Immigrants come not only from these three, but from every 
country in the world, bringing the sins of their land, to sow 
them broadcast. Mighty is the harvest we reap. 

Immigrants are most certainly encouraged by America ; all our 
ports are open to them, every inducement is offered. There are 
companies in large cities that send foreign emigrants to settle the 
vast tracts of land in the West; whilst all around us are thou- 
sands of poor Americans who would gladly go. No, these are 
left to die for want of fresh air and food, and the foreiguer is 
sent to a beautiful land, where he makes himself a home. 

An emigrant soon gains all the privileges of an American 
citizen, a full voice in our government. The government of any 
country cannot be understood in a day, by the most intelligent; 
how then can it be comprehended by any so ignorant as most 
immigrants, in two years? The politics of this country are par- 
ticularly exciting and confusing, because of the strength of the 
different parties, and the eloquence of their leaders. Thus a 
stranger is quickly bewildered, and, voting before he has time to 
investigate, will probably vote for the wrong side. Worse than 
all, a stranger destitute of honor will easily sell his vote to the 
highest bidder. Thus, through ignorance and wickedness, our 
government has become corrupt; sadly different from the early 
days of the Republic, when each man held his country dearer to 
him than life. 

A few weeks ago a terrible fire devastated New York on 
Fourth Avenue, between Twenty-second and Twenty-third 
streets. It commenced near the lower mouth of Park Avenue 
Tunnel, opposite the Park Avenue Hotel, and raging furiously, 
destroyed the whole of the Vanderbilt Street-car Depot and the 
greater part of John C. Morrell's immense warehouse, besides 



46 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



injuring a great number of private residences. Thirty-five horses I 
were burned in the stables, and the number of human lives lost 
cannot be ascertained. The warehouses contained $3,000,000 
worth of valuables, among which was a great number of fine 
paintings and pieces of sculpture, also a large collection of jew- 
elry. One painting alone, owned by Mr. Vanderbilt, is said to 1 
have been worth $55,000. The fire originated in the careless- I 
ness of one of the many laborers always employed about the I 
depot, and the rapid spreading of the flames was due to the lack 
of water. The reservoirs were not near and were locked ; before I 
sufficient water could be obtained the flames were beyond con- 
trol. Thus, through carelessness and mismanagement, were sacri- 
ficed a great amount of property, and some of the finest works 
of art ever brought to America. 

The thied annual meeting of "St. Mary's Alumnae Associ- 
ation " was held in St. Mary's Chapel, on Commencement Day, 
June 9th, 1881. The Association having been deprived of its 
President by the death of Mrs. W. R. Cox, the meeting was 
called to order by Miss F. I. Johnson, first Vice-President. 
According to the Constitution of the association (" that an elec- 
tion of officers be held annually"), the election of officers was 
held, resulting as follows : President, Mrs. C. DeR. Meares ; 
Vice-Presidents, Misses F. I. Johnson and E. N. McRee; Treas- 
urer, Miss E. G. Tew ; Secretary, Miss K. McKimmon. 

On motion, a committee was appointed to decide upon the best 
use to be made of the funds already in the treasury ; their decis- 
ion to be subject to Mr. Smedes' approval. 

The members of the Association will be glad to learn that, in 
accordance with this decision, the privileges of the " scholarship" 
are now extended to a young lady who will do honor to St. 
Mary's. 

(Signed) K. McKimmon, 

Secretary "St. M. A." Association. 

Notice will be given by the Secretary, through the Muse, of 
any special meeting that may be called by the President. 



ST. MARY'S USE. 47 



PERSONALS. 



Mittie Dowd leads the school. Annie Philips is next. Hur- 
rah for Tarboro! 

We have had a flying call from one of the " Arkites." While 
waiting for the train, our "Snail" managed to find her way to 
St. Mary's, and to spend a pleasant hour with friends old and 
new. We hear that another of "Noah's animals" is likely to 
visit us soon. 

Sallie Pippen passed Fair week with us. We gladly wel- 
comed her, though, by reason of our crowded state, we could 
not do all we wished for her comfort. But she laughingly took 
up the role of school-girl again, and conformed to all rules with 
most edifying regularity. We hope she may soon be induced to 
make another stay with us, and refresh us all with her hearty 
good-nature. We know that the small dwellers in the Nursery 

have especially missed her. 

+ 

Three old friends of St. Mary's, once her scholars, now her 
patrons, have been making a good long stay in Raleigh, glad- 
dening their daughters' hearts, and strengthening our bands by 
their approval of our rules and methods. We feared at first 
that lessons would suffer from the frequent interchange of visits; 
but our good girls have shown themselves loyal daughters to 
both their Mothers, and proved that happiness only makes duty 
easier. We grow more and more sorry to bid these ladies good- 
bye, as one by one they leave us, and dread the coming of that 
"frost" that is to be the signal for the departure of the last to 
her distant home in Texas. 

We have had calls from two United States Senators; one of 
whom did us yeoman's service at the Fair in trying to secure for 
us eatables and a carriage. To be sure his efforts were without 
success; but that was owing to the utter lack of the articles 



48 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

sought, not to the iudifference of the seeker. The thanks of 
twenty tired and hungry girls are hereby tendered to General 
Cox. 

The sick girls, too, have thanks to give to an unconscious 
benefactor. A basket of magnificent California grapes arrived I 
by express from Washington the other day. It was addressed I 
to our Lady-Principal, who racked her brains to guess what I 
friend might be passing through the Capital, for resident friend 
she had none. But the delicious flavor of the fruit was not at I 
all lessened by the little mystery. It was not till every grape I 
was eaten that we learned who had been the kind donor. We I 
wish General Ransom every success in his Congressional career; 
and are sure that the Senator who combines such judgment in 
grapes with such kind thoughtfulness will not fail to attain it. I 

A few days since we received cards announcing the marriage I 
of Douschka Pickens, an old pupil of "St. Mary's," to Dr. Dugas. I 
The wedding took place at the family residence. Many dis- I 
tinguished guests were present, and the brilliant company seemed I 
to recall the time when Governor Pickens assembled around him 
in his hospitable mansion the most brilliant wits of his day. 
The beautiful house was made, if possible, still more beautiful 
by the tasteful decorations and the abundance of the rarest and 
sweetest flowers. 

Governor Pickens was minister to Russia, and Douschka was 
born at St. Petersburgh. She was named for the Czar's mother, 
Francis Eugenia Olga Neva, Douschka being only a pet name; it 
is the Russian for "little darling." The Czar was her god- 
father, and sent her for a bridal present a magnificent necklace 
of diamonds. She has now left on her bridal tour, and for the 
present, is in New York. 

Among the first to greet old teachers and pupils and to 
welcome new-comers, was our Bishop. Although he was still 
suffering from the severe accident of the summer, St. Mary's 
halls were scarcely opened before his genial smile and cheery 
voice brightened them. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 49 

One should see the effect on our girls of the four words, " The 
Bishop is here." How homesick faces grow merry ! and tired 
students push Upham and Botta far out of sight, turning gladly, 
from discussions of the ideal to the refreshing reality of "Our 
Bishop"! 

A little bird whispers that before long, at the end of monthly 
examinations may be, we are to take a journey. In our mind's 
eye, it is true, but we venture to say that the scenes will be more 
vividly impressed on us than on many whose bodily eyes have 
seen them. We are too large a number to move en masse to 
Europe or Asia, but often has the Bishop's word-painting brought 
scenes from both to us. Scenes, pictures, do I say? Before 
long think ourselves really wandering in the old Norse-land, 
over the sunny plains of Italy, or among quaint German towns. 
Sometimes we get as far as the East and its ancient cities, sit in 
the shadow of temples whose columns bear the record of ages, 
drink of Fijeh's bright waters, and eat the apricots of Damascus. 

Mahomet may not go to the mountain, but the mountain is 
brought to Mahomet. 






MINUTES OF THE EDITORIAL CL UB. 



On Friday, the 30th of September, the Senior Class met 
and organized a club to edit the Muse. 

The following were elected by unanimous vote to fill the vari- 
ous departments: 

Kate L. Sutton, President; Kate M. Lord, Secretary; Sallie 
L. Daniel, Literary Record; Florence Slater, Chip Basket; 
Rebecca Collins, Editorials; Annie Sargent, Proof Corrector. 

We decided to invite several persons to contribute to the Muse. 
. The first move of the club at this, its second meeting, was to 
invite Minnie Albertson and Jessie Williams to become mem- 
bers of the club. These both accepted. 



50 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

It was thought advisable to transfer Florence Slater from the 
department of Chip Basket to that of News and to Jessie Wil- 
liams was assigned the office vacated by Miss Slater. 

Several contributions for the Muse were handed in, read, and 
accepted. 

October 21, 1881. — The club met at half past eight, and as no 
questions of importance were to be discussed, the materials for the 
coming Muse having been sent to the printers, it was decided to 
spend the allotted time for the meeting in reading and discussing 
extracts from the leading periodicals of the day. 

Among the papers which were read, the most interesting was 
one on Europe, Asia, and Africa. From this we derived new 
and interesting facts, especially upon the subject of Asia, and we 
hope to find the topic reviewed in the News Department. But 
should we be disappointed, our readers, who are interested in the 
said countries, can gather the desired information from Seribner's 
for October. 

The club then adjourned, to meet again the following week. 

October 28, 1881. — The club was called to order to-night with 
a few words of rebuke from our Lady-Principal, who did not 
approve of the new and peculiar method of studying Geography 
introduced at the previous meeting. 

The minutes of the last meeting were then read and approved. 

The Lady-Principal then provided each one with materials 
for more serious occupation, and all were soon in the agonies of 
composition. 

After an hour's close attention to editoral duties, our hearts 
were gladdened by the sight of some fruit which was placed in 
our midst. We were then left to our own devices, and after 
enjoying the delicious fruit, and a hearty laugh over our literary 
efforts, a vote of thanks was tendered the donor of our feast, 
and with pleasant good-nights, the club adjourned. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 51 



BOOK NOTICES. 



King Oscar, of Sweden, who devotes his leisure to literary 
pursuits, has finished a new drama, called "The Kronberg 
Castle," which will be published shortly in Swedish and German. 

"A Prince of Breffny" is the title of Thomas P. May's 
new novel. The hero of this charming book was a famous 
Irish soldier of fortune and the first Spanish Governor of Lou- 
isiana. The book shows remarkable power of narrative and will 
amply repay perusal. 

The last novel by Catherine Drew, "Lutanists of St. 
Jacobi's," is an ingenious blending of biography and romance. 
Around the real incidents of the life* of George Nenmarck ; a 
poet and musician of eminence who flourished in Germany at the 
close of the Thirty Year's War, is woven a story of love that is 
an idyl of grace and sweetness. 

Mr. A. F. Oakey's little volume, entitled "Building a 
House," is of great practical importance; as it gives directions 
to enable those without experience to build a simple house replete 
with comforts and conveniences, and invested with an atmosphere 
of beauty. 

The two volumes of Ella Rodman Church, "How to Furnish 
a House" and "The Home Garden," are companions to the ones 
just noticed. In the first the author shows how to furnish a 
house so that it shall be cheerful, home-like, and tasteful, without 
lavish expenditure. The other volume contains many useful 
hints on flower and kitchen gardens. 

We take pleasure in acknowledging the receipt of several of 
our exchanges. The Musical Record comes reg 
bringing news from the Philharmonic an( 
of Boston, with interesting information conj 




52 ST. MARY'S MUSE 

singers and players of the season. The Palladium was warmly- 
greeted on its arrival the other day. The South Atlantic, Home 
and Abroad, and the School Herald are on our table. The last 
is particularly interesting and useful. Many little leaflets, that 
we should be glad to notice, had we the space and time, come 
under our eye. Perhaps in some future number we may be able 
to do them justice. 



ART NOTICES. 



Our Art Departmnt proper numbers twenty-four pupils, 
exclusive of the class in Pencil Drawing, which has been lately 
begun in the Preparatory Department. China painting being 
the greatest novelty, excites a good deal of interest; but the 
majority of the scholars are crayoning from models and still-life. I 
Some good work is done in our Art-room, and we invite both - 
visits and criticism. 

Autograph-Albums at St. Mary's have become more popu- 
lar than ever since our most obliging of Artists and Art-teachers 
has made exquisite little sketches in all presented for her auto- 
graph. The "cute" little men and women who bear her greet- 
ings are simply delicious. 

The opinion has been expressed that the paintings on cups and I 
saucers, &c, now being done in the Art-room, are "just too 
utterly utter." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 53 



CHIP BASKET. 



PSYCHE. 

A Butterfly, from flower to flower 

Has fluttered by ; 
He seems to say: " I live my hour, 

How glad am I ! " 
Ah yes, while suns shine on the flower, 

Blue is the sky; 
But presently there comes the shower 

And he must die. 

Thou, too, bright heart, from flower to flower 

Dos't flutter by; 
Thou, too, dost say : " I live my hour, 

How glad am I ! " 
But presently the clouds will lower 

And storm be nigh ; 
Then rise thou, far above the shower, 

Caught to the sky. 

— Samuel W. Duffield. 

Some smart folks can't tell a rotten rail widout settin' on it. — 

(Scribner.) 

Ef you aint got nuflin' smaller'n a dime when de hat comes 
'round in chu'ch drap it in; you'll git de change some o'dese 
days. — (Scribner.) 

A little nut brown made : A pea-nut in a roaster. — [Detroit 

Free Press.) 

The Courier- Journal says that a Russian word coming through 
the telephone breaks all the furniture in the room. Shouldn't 
our German class room be refitted with iron furniture ? 

Do as the Romans do — if you would not be done by the 
Romans. — (Modem Argo.) 



HOENEE SCHOOL, 

OXFORD, N. C. 

A CLASSICAL, MATHEMATICAL, SCIENTIFIC AND ENGLISH SCHOOL, WITH 
MILITARY ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE. 

PRINCIPALS : 
JAMES H. HORNER, A. M. 
JEROME C. HORNER, A. M. 

ASSISTANT INSTRUCTORS : 
J. IRVING SALE (University of Virginia), Commant op Cadets, Latin, 

Mathematics, Natural Sciences and English Branches. 
TH. v. JASMUND, Ph. D., French, German, Geography, and 

History. 

The School has been under its present management for THIRTY YEARS ; 
and in this sense, it is, we believe, the OLDEST SCHOOL in the South. 

Long experience and watchful observation have enabled us to make many 
improvements in our methods of instruction and discipline; and the fact that 
a large proportion of our boys have been able to compete successfully for the 
highest honors in the various Colleges and Universities of the country, fur- 
nishes satisfactory evidence of the excellence of our system. The buildings 
are new, commodious and well-arranged for comfort and health. The school 
rooms are furnished with the neatest furniture, and the walls are hung with 
fine pictures and maps, in order to exert a refining influence upon the students. 

No expense or pains will be spared to maintain the high reputation of the 

HORNER SCHOOL 

and to make it complete in all the requirements of a first-rate preparatory 
and finishing Academy. None but well-qualified Assistant Instructors will be 
employed ; and none but honorable and studious boys will be retained in the 
School. 

The location is retired, but not so remote from the town as to lose the health- 
ful influence of its refined society. Students live in the family of the Princi- 
pals ; and their conduct out of school and in school is strictly supervised and 
controlled. The standard of scholarship and of gentlemanly deportment is 
high. 

The course of study is complete. The Text- Books are up to the latest ad- 
vancements in every department ; and the best educational advantages in all 
the appointments of the School are provided. The session is divided into 
two terms of twenty weeks each, with three weeks' interval. 

The first term of the scholastic year begins the first Monday in August; 
the second, the second Mondy in January. 

The charge for board and tuition is $100 for each session, or $200 for the 
whole scholastic year, payable at the beginning of each term. 

For further particulars apply to 

JEKOME C. HOENEE, 

OXFORD, N. C. 



ST. MARY'S SCHOOL, 



RALEI&H, W. C 

(Founded 1842.) 



THE REV. BENNETT SMBDBS, J±. M.., 
RECTOR AND PRINCIPAL. 

MISS M. E. J. CZARNOMSKA, 

LADY PRINCIPAL. 



This school now offers inducements such as have 
never before been afforded by any school in the 
South. 

Acknowledged PRE-EMINENT in point of LOCATION, REFINING INFLUENCES 
and CHARACTER of Pupils. 

A CORPS OF FOURTEEN TEACHERS, carefully selected, with a view to fitness 
for their respective positions, and therefore thorough, efficient and enthusiastic 
in their work. 

A SCHOOL OF LANGUAGES, with eight teachers. Latin, by a graduate 
of the University of Virginia. Native French and German teachers. 

THE BEST EQUIPPED MUSICAL DEPARTMENT IN THE SOUTH. 
Separate building, heated by steam, five teachers, 16 pianos, a cabinet organ, 
a magnificent new pipe organ of 2 manuals and 20 stops — the largest for school 
purposes in the United States — and the only PEDAL PIANO south of New York. 

A FULLY EQUIPPED ART DEPARTMENT, under the charge of a distinguished 
Artist. 

The Principal is determined that the advantages offered by St. Mary's in 

EVERY DEPARTMENT shall be UNSURPASSED. 

The 79th Term begins Thursday, September 8th, 1881. 

For circular containing terms and full particulars address the Rector. 



DT?TIJI?T Classical and Military Academy, 
Jj Jj 1 > Jj Li Near Warrenton > Fauquier County, Va. 

PREPARES FOR COLLEGE, UNIVERSITY OR BUSINESS. 

Recommended for Location, Health, Morality, 
Scholarship and Discipline. 



BOARD AND TUITION (Half-Session), $95.00. 



Address, for Catalogue, Maj. A. G. SMITH, Supt., 

Bethel Academy P. 0., Fauquier County, Va. 

SCHOOL, HISTORY 

OF 

^NORTH + CAROLINA^ 

Bjr JOHN W. MOORE. 



NEW, t REVISED * 1ND j ENL ARGED k EDITION. 
ALFRED WILLIAMS & CO., Publishers, 

RALEIGH, N. C. 

TZE-^CIEailEIEBS' BEST, 

TOMKINS' COVE, ROCKLAND CO., NEW YORK. 

A delightful Summer Retreat, specially intended for the benefit of tired 
teachers. Situated in the beautiful region opposite Peekskill and ten miles 
below West Point. It is easy of access by boat and railroad. The accommoda- 
tions are of the best and the terms low. Applications must be made early, as 
only a limited number can be received at one time. 



UZZELL & WILEY, 

Printers and Binders, 






Defy Competition as to Quality of Work. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



EDITED BY THE 



SENIOR CLASS OF ST. MARY'S SCHOOL. 



Vol. IV. 



RALEIGH, N. C, FEBRUARY, 1882. 



No. 2. 



CONTENTS : 

Page. 

Poem— Palma Christi— /. E. C. S. 57 

Doctor Holland— Rebecca A. Collins— Senior A 58 

A Sketch — Jessie B. Williams — Senior A 63 

The Spidee and the Fly — Maud S. Cuningham^— Junior B 65 

A Summer Night— Minnie E. Albertson— Senior A 68 

The Bell — Translated from the German of Hans Andersen by 

E. G. T. 73 

From Our Foreign Correspondent, II.— Eliza H. Smedes 78 

Blondine— Continued — Translated from the French of Mine, de 

Segur by M. E. B 82 

An Allegory — Lalla C. Roberts— Senior B 90 

My Opposite Neighbor — Mary R. Buxton — Junior B 96 

Records— Jessie B. Williams — Senior A 99 

The Story of a Work-Basket — Sophia D. Thurmond-^- J unior A 102 

A Ten Days' Queen — M. Florence Slater— Senior A 105 

Editorial — Jessie B. Williams 109 

Current Topics — M. Florence Slater 114 

Personals — The Class 119 

Minutes of the Editorial Club — Kate M. Lord 120 

Book Notices— Sallie 31. Daniels 121 

Art Notes — Minnie E. Albertson 128 

Chip Basket r . 131 



price: twenty-five cents. 



UZZELL & WILEY, PRINTERS, 

RALEIGH, N. C 

Entered at tie Post Office in Raleigh at second-class rates. 



Established, in 1793. 

IA KBVIttE. S 



Is PRE-EMINENT among Southern Boarding Schools for Boys in 
AGE, NUMBERS, AREA of patronage, and (the Superintendent feels safe 
in adding) in the character and results of its combined civil and military 
DISCIPLINE. 

The catalogue for 1880 will contain more than 240 names, from ten Southern 
and four Northern States of the Union, and South America, Europe and Asia 
are also represented. 

Board and Tuition, $110 per Session of 20 Weeks. 

For catalogue giving full particulars, address 

Maj. M. BINGHAM, Sup't. 

NO W REA DY. 

Issue'd August 1st. 

AMERICAN NEWSPAPER DIRECTORY 

FOR 

IS SO- 



Twelfth Annual Volume. 

ONE THOUSAND AND FIFTY PAGES. 



Price Five Dollars. 



This work is the recognized source of information on the Statistics of 
American Newspapers. 

Advertisers, Advertising Agents, Editors, Politicians and the Departments 
of the Government rely upon its statements as the only recognized authority. 

It gives the Name of all Newspapers and other Periodicals. 

It gives the Politics, Religion, Class or Characteristics. 

It gives the Days of Issue. 

It gives the Editor's Name. 

It gives the Publisher's Name. 

It gives the Size of the Paper. 

It gives the Subscription Price. 

It gives the Date of Establishment, and the best obtainable information 
about the circulation, and several valuable tables and classifications. 

Revised annually, and information brought down to the latest date. 

Sent to any address on receipt of the price. Address 

GEO. P. ROWELL & CO., Publishers, 

{Newspaper Advertising Bureau,) 
ro Spruce St., New Yorlc. 




ST. MAEY'S MUSE. 



Vol. IV. Raleigh, N. C, February, 1882. No. 2. 



PALMA CHRISTI. 



"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, 
ye have done it unto Me." — S. Malt., xxv, 40. 



O Hand Divine, once pierced for us, and bleeding! 

May never eye of flesh behold Thee more ? 
Thee, sceptred now, and lifted interceding 

Within the veil, the mercy-seat before? 

O Palm of -Christ, once nail-torn, but now streaming 
With rays of glory from Thy ancient scar ! 

May mortal ken, trance-quickened, yet not dreaming, 
Film-free, and eagle-bold, see Thee afar? 

Thy holy seers, Saint Paul, Saint John, Saint Stephen, 
With steadfast gaze peered through earth's prison bars, 

And saw Thee, gleaming like the brow of even, 
Girt with Thy circlet fair, seven golden stars. 

We may not thus descry Thy lustrous splendor, 

Effulgent, blazing in the middle sky; 
Yet, Holy Hand ! revealed in mercy tender, 

Thou showest Thyself to Faith in vision high. 

Faith sees Thee in the palm, wan, wasted, shrunken, 
With which pale Penury implores relief; 

In its gaunt hollow sees the nail-print sunken, 
The peerless print of Love that bore our grief. 

That peerless print, with alms Faith hastes to cover, 
(She lives in love and hath no life besides), 

And, as she hastes, Thy sheltering Palm above her 
Heals her own hurt, its hateful vestige hides. 



58 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Faith sees Thee, meekly in the Church's bason 
Deigning to take earth's lucre from Thy flock, 

Thy way on earth, Thy saving health to blazon, 

Thou Holy Hand on high, our Strength and Rock ! 

O Hand Divine, once pierced for us, and bleeding ! 

Give us Faith's loving eye, to see Thee clear ; 
So may we, uail-torn Palm, Thy passion pleading, 

In Thy safe shadow hide us from all fear. 



J. E. C. S. 



DOCTOR HOLLAND. 



In the death of Josiah Gilbert Holland, the literary world has 
sustained a great loss. If we except Longfellow, perhaps no 
American author would be so missed. Certainly none has ever 
thrown himself more in contact with the people or made a wider 
sphere in which to gain their sympathy. His writings were so 
varied that he could reach many different minds. The sterling 
common sense of such works as "Timothy Titcombe" spoke to 
practical men as the beauty of his poems won to him the dreamy 
and poetical ; while his lectures and the editorials of a widely 
circulated magazine made him liked and known by all. His 
name is a household word where other authors are unknown. 

None have excelled him in his peculiar calling, journalism, 
though Bryant was his equal : and while Whittier may now have 
the pre-eminence as a poet, who can say to which the palm will 
be awarded when future generations shall pronounce their judg- 
ment. 

Dr. Holland was essentially a journalist. His idea of his pro- 
fession was very different from that prevalent when he first 
became an editor. We see how high was his standard and how 
great his work only by comparing the papers of to-day with 
those of forty years ago; for the change was in a measure 
wrought by him. Journals then were nothing more than politi- 



ST. MARY 8 MUSE. 59 

cal records, while now it is a liberal education to he well read in 
the standard periodicals of the day. In all his editorial efforts, 
from the little paper called The Bay State Courier, to that 
magazine which has become one of the world's best, there is 
always the one aim — the improvement of the people. In their 
cause and for truth Holland was indeed a knight, noble and 
brave. He was a Chevalier Bayard in literature. And as the 
chevalier fought his country's battles, carrying the white banner 
of France even into the enemy's country, so Holland has fought 
unflinchingly and has borne a snow-white flag unsoiled by the 
world. 

Holland was of Puritan descent, and his ancestors had lived 
the life of all New England farmers. The fates, however, seemed 
united against his father, Harrison Holland; for he was destined 
always to be a poor man, aud had many times to change his 
home in search of work. Holland had, therefore, no oppor- 
tunity to attend school. Perhaps the father never felt the trial 
of poverty so keenly as when he learned of the son's great 
desire and knew how unable he was to help its fulfilment. 
Finally, however, the family settled in Northampton, and the 
eager student attended the High School of that place. So assidu- 
ously did he apply himself that, being unaccustomed to a seden- 
tary life, his health failed. Forced to earn his living, and deter- 
mined not to lose what he had gained, he went to Vermont and 
taught school. 

Having tasted the fountain of knowledge, he could not con- 
tent himself with the life of a laborer; and as a collegiate course 
was impossible, he studied medicine, the only path open to him. 
He graduated with much honor at the Medical College of Berk- 
shire, and soon after, in partnership with a class-mate, settled in 
the rising town of Springfield. But, to his sorrow, he soon 
found that older physicians had the practice. The slow waiting 
in the office was very trying to his active spirit, aud turning his 
attention to what he liked most, journalism, he established The 
Bay State Courier. This attempt, after six months, failed. 



60 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

In this, the darkest period of his life, Dr. Holland married 
Miss Elizabeth Chapin. His wife and his mother must have 
been very noble to have inspired him to write "Kathrina"; and to 
his wife he dedicated this, his best work. "I dedicate "Kathrina," 
the work of my hand, to Elizabeth, the wife of my heart." 

Not long after his marriage he was called to Vicksburg, Miss., 
to superintend the public schools. Against the advice of his 
friends, he went, only to find there were no organized schools. 
He soon had them working on the New England system. His 
pupils were at first very unruly. Such a thing as shooting a 
school-master was not unknown. Many times he was in danger, 
and only his calm courage and strong will saved him. 

At the end of a year he was recalled to Springfield, and this 
Avas the turning point in his life. He became the co-editor of 
the since famous Springfield Republican. And it was, in a meas- 
ure, his talents and industry that raised it to the eminence it 
afterwards attained. To make the paper more attractive he 
commenced a serial history of Western Massachusetts. This 
required hard work, and though the success of the papers was 
complete, the author looked back upon the time with horror as 
upon a season of drudgery. His well-known letters written 
under the name of "Timothy Titcombe," first appeared in this 
paper, and by these he became generally known. The letters, 
though now so popular, were many times rejected by New York 
publishers, until at last the writer carried them to Charles Scrib- 
ner, who accepted them with delight. This was the beginning of 
the friendship between Holland and Scribner. 

After the appearance of "Timothy Titcombe" other works fol- 
lowed in rapid succession. This is his most popular book, 
though ''Kathrina" and "Bitter-Sweet" are finer, and his novels 
contain some of his best writing. Not until by "Timothy 
Titcombe," he had gained the interest of the people, did Holland 
appear before the world as a lecturer. The people would not 
be content until they had heard the quaint writer speak, 
and he was called to all parts of the United States. When 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 61 

he first came forward the woman question was being agitated. 
One need only read his introduction to "Kathrina" to know 
what stand he took. 

After the appearance of his works, Dr. Holland found him- 
self well known and — strange situation for him — a rich man. 
He had always longed to visit Europe, and now he went to those 
places he afterwards described glowingly in Scribner. Nor 
was the time all spent in sight-seeing and dreaming; he was 
preparing for his coming work, and it was while standing on a 
bridge at Geneva that he determined to accept the charge of the 
magazine with which his name will always be connected, and 
which, by his efforts, has become so influential. On his return 
he established Scribner's Magazine, and through this, until the 
day of his death, he worked faithfully for his countrymen. 
He has left a vacancy which will not soon be filled. 

Nothing in Holland's character is more touching than his 
devotion to his father. This love is shown in one of his earliest 
works, " Daniel Gray." His love for his mother, too, was strong 
and tender. She was a timid woman and shrank from strangers. 
When she slept the sleep that knows no waking, he would allow 
no hands but those of her sons to bear her body to its last resting 
place. 

Holland was the soul of generosity and hospitality. Having 
himself suffered in his youth, he was ever ready to aid those 
around him. No place in the broad land held a heartier welcome 
than did "Bonnie Castle," his beautiful home in the Thousand 
Islands. 

The secret of Holland's success was his sound common sense 
and good judgment, which prevented him from attempting any- 
thing he was not capable of accomplishing. He knew the exact 
extent of his powers, and unlike many, used those that he had, 
not waiting till he might do something great. These words of 
his own, might well be his epitaph, 

"He did the duty that he saw." 



62 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Holland's cnildhood and youth had great influence on his 
after life, and especially did they leave their impress upon 
his writings. The splendid lessons of "Timothy Titcombe" 
come home to each and all ; because as we read we feel that the 
author has learned these lessons by bitter experience. ' When he 
gives good advice, we are inclined to act upon it, knowing he 
knows whereof he speaks. 

In "Bitter-Sweet" he shows his appreciation of home-life in 
the vivid painting of the farm-house scenes. The deep questions 
discussed around the broad fire-place prove him a true child of 
New England. The novel "Arthur Bonnicastle," which is a 
picture of happy school-life, contains also an account of the 
removal of the household gods from Holland's former home to 
Northampton. His poem, "Kathrina," is a graceful tribute to 
woman, and she is his inspiration ; he says, 

"Not many friends my life has made, 
Few have I loved; and few are they 
Who in my hand their hearts have laid, 

And they were women. I am gray 
But never have I been betrayed." 

''These words, this tribute for the sake 
Of truth to God and womankind." 

In this work are true poetic gems; as, the picture of the little 
lamb leading the child up the mountain side, and the death-bed 
of the beloved wife. All of Holland's writings are characterized 
by their purity of diction, and above all, by their earnest, truth- 
seeking spirit. 

One of our leaders has fallen, but his example inspires, his 
precepts still guide us. Onward they point toward that land of 
which he spoke when he said, "If we all act the manly part we 
were sent here to act, and are true to God and to ourselves, we 
shall be gathered into a great kingdom." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 63 



A SKETCH. 



In the lovely valley of the Connecticut, where, like a silver 
thread, that willow-fringed stream winds between Mounts Tom 
and Holyoke, stands a little brick church. It is built on the 
site of Kathrina's home, and is a fit monument of her pure and 
lovely life. 

Again the scene rises before me as fresh and beautiful as when 
I first beheld it, that sweet June morning long ago. The bright 
sun, bursting through the tinted morning clouds, sends a shower 
of sunbeams upon the landscape. Here, like a baud of youths, all 
in shining armor, they chase the golden mists up the mountain 
side, and there, they are a ring of laughing maidens, dancing o'er 
the clover-scented fields, pausing now to drink the dew from 
the daisy's cup, now to peep into the windows of the little 
church. 

Here at the mountain's foot, where the sunbeams dance in a 
merry circle is, I fancy, the very spot where Paul, through pity, 
let loose the lamb. There, when playfully it escaped him, he 
swiftly followed its bounding feet. Up the mountain side they 
go. Far up I see the lamb, and the boy, with flushed cheeks, 
in hot pursuit. Over crags and rocks they fly, up the steeps, 
and over yawning chasms. Now they are lost to sight, but still 
I can hear the tinkling of the bell, yet fainter growing. Left 
alone at the mountain's foot, I look up and just begin to realize old 
Holyoke's majestic beauty. When confronted by Nature's 
grandest works the heart is awed, yet not overcome, for it holds 
aspirations which reach above the highest mountain's summit. 
We look up, not with despair, but with joy that before us lies a 
new world, rich in beauties not yet unfolded, grand with heights 
yet to be attained. 

It is hard to tell at what time Holyoke is most beautiful — on a 
spring morning when newly dressed in robes of green and flushed 
with opening buds, when bathed with sparkling dew and crowned 






64 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

with the silvery mists of May; or on an autumn day, when 
kissed by frost at night, the maples blush and hide their 
crimson faces in the golden haze of Indian summer; when, 

"Had the earth 
Been splashed with blood of grapes from every clime, 
Tinted from topaz to dim carbuncle, 
Or orient ruby, it would not have been 
Drenched with such waste of color." 

But hark! Again I hear the tinkling of the bell. Come, let 
us follow in the footsteps of the boy and lamb. The flowers 
bud and blossom at our feet; violet, anemone, the purple hypatica 
and blushing arbutus, with their varied perfumes, lure us from 
the path. Now, half hidden by tall ferns and hanging mosses, 
a crystal stream crosses the way. Steeper and steeper it grows 
the rocks stand perpendicular, and, with difficulty, we scale 
the shelving cliffs. Yet up we must go, until at last, we reach 
the summit. We are on the mountain top, surrounded by the 
beauties of earth and air and sky. Like a "jeweled cup" is the 
valley below, "brimming with beauty's essence," filled with 
heavenly elixir poured from the sun. Drink, drink deep, until 
the heart and soul, growing larger, may contain it all. 

From the north the silver stream pours its "twinkling" tide, 
and winds its way across the meadows and through the plaided 
fields. There the ferryman, like a toy, pulls his doll-like 
passengers across the river; and yonder, miniature plowmen, with 
their tiny plows, turn up the sod. To the west, among 
beautiful meadows, sits " the Queen of Villages," Northampton. 
Further to the south, Mount Tom stands out in bold relief. In 
the north, Sugar Loaf, stern and weatherbeaten rears his bald 
head defying wind and icy blasts, and at his feet lies the college 
city, Amherst. On the east, is Old Hadley, and still farther 
east, the single spire of South Hadley rises like a needle, above 
the distant downy groves. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 65 

Now I recognize the spot from which we started. There are 
the fairy elms and the little red church. 

Scene after scene flits over ray mind, first a snowy lamb, and 
last a maiden form so fine and pure that, 

"Tlie faintest flower the green earth bears, 

Bright with dew and light of heaven, 
Is, of the double life she wears, 

The type, in grace and glory given 
By soil and sun in equal shares." 



THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. 



I am going to tell you this story, my dear little ones, to show 
you what happens to naughty children who are disobedient. 

A little fly, with its mother and little brothers and sisters lived 
in the large school-room of St. Mary's. Every morning the whole 
family went in search of crumbs and sweet things, for they were 
sure of finding plenty in the school-room, dropped by the bad 
girls who broke the rules and ate there. My! how those little 
flies did enjoy the delightful cracker crumbs ! Now, Mrs. Fly 
always warned her children not to go into corners or fly about 
the room. "For," said that wise old lady, "the dreadful spiders 
are always watching greedily for us poor harmless creatures to 
pass by. Perhaps you might think their webs pretty and be 
tempted into them." 

One morning the mother had flown away, and as the weather 
was rainy, the little flies could not sit in the bright sunshine. 
The brothers and sisters of our Fly amused themselves by play- 
ing bopeep around the stove pipe. They asked little Fly to join 
them, but the offer was rejected in such a pet that they ran off, 
leaving him alone. 



66 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

But was nothing the matter with him but the rainy day? 
Was it possible that he could get so angry just because there was 
no sunshine? Oh, no! something else was wrong. This little 
fly had been visiting a neighbor, where it had met many other 
flies and heard things which its mother had called naughty. 
"But," thought he, "if others do such things, why cannot I?" 
He often heard these flies speak of slipping from home to get 
sweet things and to see their neighbors, even when their mothers 
had told them not to leave the house. So now little Fly sits in 
the corner pondering why he cannot look for nice things to eat, 
as well as his friends. "They are quite as small, and still they are 
never caught by spiders. Why does mother object to my going 
a li'ttle way from home? I don't believe anything will happen 
to me if I do. I'm going." The little fellow sprang from the 
window-sill and flew around the room. Oh, me! thought he, 
this is not much better than staying at home. I'll look out of 
the door and see what is there. 

At first he saw nothing but a long, dark hall, hung with a few 
pictures ; then happening to glance through the opposite door, he 
spied something bright and shining, in which was the image of 
his own little self. " Oh, how strange ! " thought he, " here is 
some one just like me, I'll go and see who it can be." So he 
flew through the door right to a mirror, for a mirror it was, and 
found that the vision he had seen was his own picture. After 
admiring and dancing before it awhile, little Fly concluded to 
look farther. He found another mirror and many beautiful 
pictures — and what is that in the corner? — something so bright 
and all of a shimmer. "Oh!" thinks little Fly, "I must see 
what that is, and then I'll go home so as to be there before 
mother." As he approached, the sun threw a bright ray over 
the web, dying it in all the colors of the rainbow. The fly, filled 
with admiration, drew nearer, and was greeted by a cheery voice, 
which said, 

"Will you walk into my parlor?" 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 67 

Little Fly turned and beheld in the door-way a bright eyed, dandy 
looking little fellow smiling and bowing. "Oh, how pretty his 
parlor must be^! " thought little Fly, "but perhaps this strange 
creature is one of those spiders that I've heard mother speak of, 
I will not step in just now." So he thanked the spider, for such 
was the host of the gay little house, and saying he would call 
another day, flew away. 

But how did a spider's web get into the parlor of St. Mary's? 
The secret of it was, that about this time the parlor maids 
were delicate creatures, not to say lazy and constantly changing 
besides. So it happened that none of them had spied out this 
corner. 

Now, our cunning old spider had been watching for days, even 
months, to find a place where he might weave his web, for he 
looked with contempt upon those of his race whose homes were 
in the covered way and under the dark stairs. At last, when 
he found a corner which day after day was left undisturbed, he 
determined to make his web there. He set manfully to work 
and finished his pretty house just in time for little Fly to 
admire it. 

It was growing dark and our litle fly flew around the room, 
trying to find the door. Alas! it was closed. He was not much 
troubled, for he thought his mother would soon come in search 
of him. " I'll go by that pretty little parlor again," thought 
lie, so away he flew. Just before he reached the door he heard 
a sweet voice singing 

" Come hither, hither, pretty fly, 
With the pearl and silver wing." 

Now, our fly was not altogether free from vanity, and he was 
much flattered to hear some one singing about his pretty wings. 
This, Mr. Spider well knew, and gaily kept on singing: 

"Your robes are green and purple, 
There's a crest upon your head, 
Your eyes are like the diamond, 
But mine are dull as lead." 



68 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Little Fly had drawn nearer and nearer to the web, and when 
the song was finished he thought it would only be polite to thank 
the kind singer. So he sprang upon the door-step. But hardly 
had he touched it when he was grabbed and held fast. " Oh, 
my! it hurts! do let me go!" cried the poor thing. But the 
spider laughed gleefully and only wound him the more closely. 

How little Fly hated the web he once had thought so beau- 
tiful ! 

He remained there all day without seeing any one but the 
spider, who stood smiling and bowing in his door- way. Once he 
did see his mother and cried loudly, but in vain, for quickly did 
she pass the house of that deceitful spider. 

Little Fly longed to ask for forgiveness; but alas! it was too 
late, and he soon died miserably, in the spider's web. 

So you see, my little dears, to what disobedient children may 
come. 



A SUMMER NIGHT. 



A flood of radiance streamed from the home of the moon-elves, 
tilling with light the cloudless blue of the evening. Through 
the soft glory of their native land floated forms of fairy loveli- 
ness. Far down the shining track of a long moonbeam a band 
of these bright beings glided earthward. For the moon-elves 
often come on gentle missions to this lower world. The print 
of their feet is seen in the sparkling, dimpled waves of mcon- 
lit streams; it is they who open the night flowers, and bring 
bright dreams to little children. The elves are lighted through 
dark places by the gleam of their wings, and when too long 
absent from their home they are warned by the waning of this 
fairy lustre, which brightens again when they begin their upward 
journey, glowing with renewed radiance until they reach their 
home, however long and difficult the way. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 69 

The fairy band that had started earthward with the moon- 
beam went on joyously together until they could see the dark 
forest below them, and the glimmer of the lake which murmured 
at the feet of its encircling pines. But now, as the moonlight 
suddenly grew fainter, they paused, and one of them, looking up, 
said, "See, the clouds are gathering about our home; let us 
return, or we shall lose our way in the darkness." 

But their fairest sister, Lilis, around whose golden tresses her 
bright wings threw a halo of quivering light, pleaded to go on 
to the world which she had never seen. 

"If you will not come with me, my sisters," she said at last, 
"remain here while I go alone. I will surely return in a little 
while." To this her companions agreed, and soon the eager fay's 
swift flight brought her just above the forest. As she stood, 
poised on the top of a tall, dark pine, a multitude of twinkling, 
winged lights surrounded her. They flew about her, letting her 
touch and caress them; but while she played among them, Lilis 
did not see the dark beings mounted upon the fire-flies, who 
watched her with baleful eyes, envious of her pure brightness. 
At her approach they hid under the fire-flies' dusky wings, unable 
to bear her light. 

Now the fairy heard far off the voices of her companions call- 
ing to her. In haste she sprang upward to join them, but only 
in time to catch the last gleam of their wings as they vanished 
from her gaze, and a sudden darkness fell about her. Dazzled 
by the strange new lustre of the fire-flies, Lilis had not seen the 
darkening of the moonlight as slowly gathering clouds shut her 
but from companions and home. 

Now a new trouble arose, for her enemies grew bolder in the 
darkness, and no longer seeking to be hidden, swarmed about the 
shrinking fairy as if to extinguish by their united fires the 
radiance of her wings. She fled from them in terror, fluttered 
down to the lake and sank, all weary and bewildered, within the 
petals of a water-lily which opened to receive her. The scene 
before her was full of wonder to the fairy, as recovering from 
her fright she timidly looked out from her fragrant retreat. On 



70 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

the still lake faint gleams of silver fell through parting clouds. 
White water-lilies glimmered in light and shadow over the dark, 
smooth surface. Blending with the murmur of the waters came 
the sound of voices, low, soft, mysterious. Wild and sweet, 
from every part of the lake swelled the elfin music. Glancing 
through the water, forms of fairy grace swayed in fantastic 
dances. White arms and fair, wild faces with shadowy, stream- 
ing tresses, appeared and disappeared. For the lake was the 
home of the water-sprites, and to-night in all their broad domain 
they held high festival. 

As Lilis gazed about her, forgetting her fears in wonder at her 
strange surroundings, a few drops of water fell on her hand and 
a musical laugh sounded near her. Looking down, she caught 
the bright eyes of a water-sprite who held out her white arms, 
entreating the stranger fay in soft persuasive tones, to join the 
people of the lake in their elfin revels. Before Lilis could 
answer, there appeared with the water-sprite a crowd of her 
kindred, flocking to see their radiant visitor as she sat in the lily 
bower, which gleamed like purest pearl in the light of her shining 
wings, while the golden heart of the flower shone likelier bright 
hair. But Lilis thought of the happy home she had left, and 
turning sadly from the strangers, bent her fair head upon her 
hands in bitter grief. While the pitying water-sprites thronged 
about her with soft words of comfort, another voice was heard, 
so sweet and tender that Lilis raised her eyes in wonder. A 
gracious form was hovering near her, with airy wings of faintest 
blue outspread and quivering. Far down over her flowing, mist- 
like robes, floated her hair, soft and dusky as the shadows which 
played over the lake. Mysterious as the shadows, were the deep, 
still eyes ; but the purity, the chastened glory of moonlight shone 
in the face which bent tenderly over the weeping fay. " What 
is your sorrow, little one ?" she gently asked, " and why do I see 
a daughter of the moon-elves alone in the home of the water- 
sprites ?" 

Won by the tender voice, the fairy told her all her story. 
Then clasping her little hands, she said pleadingly: "O, Spirit 



ST, MARY'S MUSE. 71 

of Evening, — for other than that friend of fairies yon cannot 
be, — surely you, from whom the darkness hides nothing, can show 
me the way to my home ! " 

"I could, indeed, dear child," said the Spirit, "but the way 
would be full of dangers to you who have never ventured alone 
into the darkness. When the clouds have cleared so that you 
may safely take your upward flight, I will point out to you the 
way. Farewell, sweet Lilis ; be patient till I come." And with 
these words the Spirit, slowly rising, floated into the forest. 

Now, as the soft voices of the water-sprites again entreated her 
to join them, the gentle fay left her retreat and went freely 
among her new friends. She joined in their sports, flitting over 
the water with swift, silvery feet, flinging glimmering wreaths 
of light over the dark locks of her companions, darting among 
the rushes and over the broad glistening leaves of the lilies, or 
glancing among the swaying pine branches above. And Lilis 
not only shared the sports of the water-sprites, but protected 
them in danger. When her dusky foes, the deadly enemies of 
these beings, came down upon the lake on their fire-fly steeds, 
they fled in dismay before the light streaming from her wings. 
It was she who taught the water-sprites that they were safe from 
their foes among the lilies, whose whiteness was hateful to the 
the dark band, and whose pure fragrance made an atmosphere 
which their poisonous breath could not taint. 

Still the fairy pined in secret for her home, and often looked 
longingly to the clouded sky. 

At last a strong bright ray of moonlight shone out through 
a sudden rift in the clouds. Forgetful of the Spirit's parting 
words, Lilis flew upward along the shining track, leaving far 
below her the lake and the water-sprites, who sorrowfully watched 
her flight. 

But alas ! the moonlight was only a passing gleam, the clouds 
gathered again, darker than before. Then came the low, deep 
roll of thunder, broad flashes of lightning lit the sky and the 
storm burst in all its fury upon the tender fay. Poor trembling 
Lilis, carried hither and thither by the wind, drenched with rain, 



72 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

terrified by the thunder, how bitterly she repented of her rashness. 
To add to her distress, a flash of lightning revealed near her the 
dusky foes who had so often fled before her. With bitter taunts 
and eyes full of malice they pursued the trembling fay. But 
soon they started back, enraged to find that even now they could 
not come within the circle of light which still played around her, 
nor dim with their poisonous breath the lustre of her wings. 

Before they could again approach, Lilis had fled far down 
in the forest. Here fresh terrors beset her, as she wandered 
helplessly in the gloom. Now she struggled through low and 
thorny paths, where the gleaming, baleful eyes of venomous 
serpents made her shudder with horror. Again she took her 
flight through the bending tree-tops, where pausing once to rest, 
a long shivering cry sounded near her. Starting up, she fled in 
terror from the large gray owl, who, from the branch above, 
solemnly watched her with his great round eyes. Once a flight 
of bats, with their short, shrill shriek, swept by her, driven by 
the wind. At last the fairy paused for rest beside a clump of 
tall bright flowers, revealed by the lightning. But at once she 
sank to the earth, overcome by the poisonous breath of the 
deceitful blossoms. As she lay there, faint and breathless, a soft 
hand was laid on her brow, and pressed with healing touch over 
her torn and smarting wings. Slowly raising her eyes, Lilis 
fixed them on the tender, pitying face of the Spirit of Even- 
ing. Remembering the warning of her friend, the fairy hid her 
little face, full of shame and grief. But the Spirit uttered no 
reproof. Gently she raised the drooping fay, soothed her with 
tender words, and bade her look up. The rain had ceased, the 
wind had sunk to a gentle murmur, and oh ! joy to Lilis! bright 
and clear the moonlight fell through the breaking clouds. Joy- 
fully the fairy spread her wings, but in a moment folded them 
and sank abashed at the feet of her friend. 

"Ah, my Lilis, your lesson was not in vain," said the Spirit, 
tenderly. " But now, look up, dear child, and see far in the 
cloudless blue the gleaming w T alls of your home. A long jour- 
ney, but a safe one, is before you. Farewell, sweet fay." 



ST. MARYS MUSE. 73 



THE BELL. 



At evening, in the narrow streets of the great city, when the 
sun was sinking and golden clouds floated overhead between the 
tall chimneys, first one and then another used to hear a wonder- 
ful sound, like the chime of a church-bell. For a moment only 
was it heard, for there was such a rattling of wagons, and so 
many loud cries, that the chime became inaudible. "Hear the 
vesper-bell!" said the people, "the sun is sinking!" 

Those who lived in the suburbs of the city, where the houses 
were more scattered, with gardens and little fields between, saw 
a more glorious evening sky and heard the bell more distinctly ; 
to these the chime seemed to come from a cathedral deep in the 
still, odor-breathing forest, and the people turned towards the 
sound and their thoughts were like a prayer. 

As time went on, one said to another, "Perhaps there is a 
church in the forest. The bell has a peculiarly clear ring; let 
us go in search of it." And the rich rode, and the poor walked, 
but the way seemed surprisingly long, and when they reached a 
clump of willows which grew at the edge of the wood, they lay 
down and looked up at the long twigs, and imagined themselves 
in the heart of the forest. A city confectioner came and put up 
his tent; and then another came, and he hung a bell over his 
tent, and this bell was covered with tar to preserve it from the 
rain, and it had no clapper. When the people returned, they 
said how romantic it had been, even more entertaining than a tea 
party ! 

Three persons affirmed that they had been through the forest 
to its utmost limit; that they had constantly heard the bell, but 
that it had sounded to them exactly as if the chime came from 
the city. One wrote a whole poem about it, and said that the 
bell sounded like the voice of a mother to a beloved child ; no 
melody could be sweeter than its chime. The Emperor of the 
land also became interested in the search, and promised to him 
who should discover whence the sound came the title of " Bell- 



74 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

ringer of the World !" and this was to be bestowed, even should 
it prove not to be a bell. 

In order to obtain the promised office, many penetrated the 
forest, but only one returned more enlightened than he went. 
No one had gone far enough, not even he. Still, he said that the 
bell-like note came from a very large owl in a hollow tree. The 
owl was one of great wisdom, continually beating its head against 
the tree ; but, whether the chime came from its head or from the 
hollow tree, he could not with certainty affirm. So he was raised 
to the office of " Bell-ringer of the World," and every year wrote 
a little play about the owl ; and mankind was as wise as before. 

It was Confirmation-day. The Bishop had spoken earnestly, 
and the young candidates were much impressed. It was a marked 
day for them. From childhood they had suddenly come to 
maturity ; possessing the souls of children, they were no longer 
such in understanding. 

The sun shone gloriously as the train of the newly confirmed 
went through the city, while from the forest came a peculiarly 
clear sound from the unknown bell. Instantly they were seized 
with a desire to go in search of it — all but three. One wished to 
go home to try on her ball-dress; for it was on account of this 
very dress and ball that she had chosen just then to be con- 
firmed, otherwise she would not have joined the number. Another 
was a poor boy who had borrowed his Confirmation-coat and 
shoes from the inn-keeper's son, and had to return them at the 
appointed time. The third said that he never went to strange 
places without his parents; that he had always been a good child, 
and meant to remain so, particularly now that he was confirmed ; 
and that they need'nt laugh at him — but they did. 

So these three would not go, but the rest set forth. The sun 
shone, and the birds sang, and the children sang too, and held 
each other's hands ; for they were, as yet, free from care, and irre- 
sponsible, before God. 

But soon two of the smallest grew tired, and turned back to 
the city. Two little girls sat down and made garlands ; so these 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 75 

did not reach with the others the willows where the confectioner 
lived. Then they said, "See, here we are at the place, and there 
is no bell. It was only our imagination." Then, suddenly, from 
the depths of the wood rang the bell, so clear and sweet that four 
or five of the children determined to go farther into the wood. 
The undergrowth was so tangled and leafy that it was extremely 
difficult to force one's way through. Forest lilies and anemones 
grew up almost too high; glowing convolvuli and blackberry 
vines hung, in long festoons, from tree to tree, where the night- 
ingale sang, and the sunbeams sparkled. O, it was beautiful ! 
but it was not an adventure for girls; they would have torn their 
clothes. Around lay great masses of rock, overgrown with 
many-colored mosses ; fresh spring- water gurgled forth, and sang 
a little tune, "glug," "glug." 

"This can't very well be the bell," said one of the children, 
and lay down and listened. "I must examine it carefully." So 
he remained, and let the others go on. 

They came to a house built of bark and twigs. A great wild- 
apple tree bent over it as if it would pour out its blessings upon 
the rose-colored roof. The long branches reached even the gable, 
and on this hung a little bell. Could this be the one whose 
sound they had all heard ? Yes, all but one agreed that it was. 
He said that this bell was too small and delicate to have been 
heard at such a distance as they had heard it ; and, besides, those 
were different tones which had so moved the hearts of men. He 
who spoke was a king's son, and the others said, "Such people 
always think themselves cleverer than every one else!" 

So they let him go on alone. As he advanced he became more 
and more impressed by the loneliness of the forest; but he could 
still hear the little bell over which the others had rejoiced so 
much ; and when the wind blew from the confectioner's tent, he 
could hear the people's voices, as they sang at their tea ; yet the 
deep strokes of the bell sounded louder, and soon it was as if 
some one were playing on an organ quite near. The sound came 
from the left side, where the heart is. 



76 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Now, there was a rustling in the branches, and a little boy stood 
before the Prince, a boy in wooden shoes and with such a scanty 
jacket that you could see what long wrists he had. The two 
knew each other, for the boy was none other than the very can- 
didate who could not come because he had to go home and return 
the coat and shoes to the inn-keeper's son. This he had done, 
and then had gone out alone in his wooden shoes and poor clothes, 
for the bell sounded so strong and deep, that he was obliged to 
go in search of it. 

"Then we can go together," said the Prince. But the poor 
boy with the wooden shoes was ashamed. He looked at the short 
sleeves of his jacket, and said he was afraid it would be presump- 
tuous in him to journey with the king's son ; besides, he thought 
the bell should be sought on the right, where all was bright and 
glorious. 

"Then we shall not get in each other's way," said the Prince, 
and nodded to the poor boy who plunged into the thickest, 
deepest part of the forest, where the thorns tore his poor clothes 
in pieces, and wounded his face and hands and feet. 

The Prince, too, was pretty badly scratched, but the sun still 
shone on his path. It is he whom we will follow, for he was a 
fine youth. " I must and will find the bell," he said, "if I have 
to go to the end of the world !" 

The ugly monkeys sat up in the trees and grinned at him with 
all their teeth. "We will cudgel him!" they said "we will 
thrash him! he is a king's son!" But unmolested, he went 
deeper and deeper into the forest, where the wonderful flowers 
grew. There were white star-lilies, with blood-red stamens; 
bells of heaven's own blue, which sparkled in the wind ; and 
apple trees, whose fruit looked like great shining soap bubbles : 
O, how the trees must have glittered in the sun light ! All 
around in the fresh green glades, where the stag and hind gam- 
bolled in the grass, grew stately oaks and beeches, and if the 
bark on any of the trees was broken, grass and tall weeds grew 
in the cleft. There were expanses of forest-land with quiet lakes, 
on whose bosom floated white swans with folded wings. The 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 11 

Prince often stood still and listened, thinking that the sound of 
the bell came up to him from one of these deep lakes, but he 
noticed that he no sooner approached than the bell sounded still 
deeper in the forest. 

Now the sun was sinking ; the air shone red as fire ; it became 
so still, so still in the forest ! The Prince sank upon his knees 
sang his evening Psalm, and said, " Never shall I find what I 
seek ! the sun is sinking, and night, dark night, approaches. 
Perhaps I may yet see the sun before it disappears. I will climb 
those cliffs, they are as high as the tallest trees." He seized vines 
and rocks, and climbed up the slimy stones, where water snakes 
crawled, and frogs seemed to croak at him. He reached the 
summit before the sun, seen from these heights, had disappeared. 
O, what splendor ! the sea, the great, glorious sea, which tossed 
its long waves against the shore, lay spread before him. The 
sun stood like a great, shining altar, where sea and sky met. All 
were melted into one glow of color. The forest sang, and the 
sea sang, and his heart sang with them. All nature was a great, 
consecrated Cathedral, of which trees and floating clouds were 
the pillars, flowers and grass the velvet carpet, and heaven itself 
the great dome. 

Gradually, the red light grew paler, the sun vanished, but 
millions of stars came out, myriad lights appeared. The Prince 
stretched out his arms towards heaven, towards the sea and the 
forest; when, suddenly, from the path on the right, came the poor 
boy with the short sleeves and wooden shoes. He had reached 
this point in his search just in time. They ran to each other, 
and held each other's hands in the great Cathedral of Nature 
and of Poetry; and above them rang out the holy invisible bell ; 
while blessed spirits hovered around them in rhythmical move- 
ment to an exultant Alleluia. 



78 ST. MARY'S 'MUSE. 

FROM OUR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT. 

* 

Dresden, Germany, ^| 

Burger wiese Strasse, 19-iii, V 

July 9, 1881. j 

I only wish you could see Miss N. and I comfortably seated 
in our little room, she being busily occupied in getting ready her 
dress to wear to church to-morrow, and I looking up from my 
writing, to please my eye with the trees and flowers in the beau- 
tiful little square just in front of our lodging-house. But I 
don't want to tell my tale backwards; so I will return once more 
to "the sad sea waves" and the good old ship Neckar. If you 
have seen my other letters, you have an idea of the way in which 
we spent our time on shipboard, up to the time of our arrival at 
Southampton, Tuesday, the fifth of July. That was an exciting, 
a thrilling day, when we looked across a bright blue sea, break- 
ing all over into the loveliest white crests, and caught the most 
wonderful glimpses of our own old English coast. Often, too, 
the waters all around us were covered with fishing-crafts, large 
and small, presenting a most picturesque appearance, with their 
sails of different colors, white, red, and yellow. All that day, I 
could not keep still, but was continually going from one side of 
the deck to the other, so as not to miss anything; and towards 
sunset, all eyes were intent upon the thrillingly beautiful scene 
around, as we entered the narrow channel between the Isle of 
Wight and the mainland. The sea was of the most vivid green ; 
masses of dark blue clouds lay low on the horizon; and, between 
the ship and the sky, under a strong light which seemed thrown 
on them from above the clouds, rose the towering rocks which 
form this end of the Isle of Wight. Their light-gray color, 
almost white against the dark blue sky, blended beautifully with 
the hues of the sea and the heavens; and the whole scene, varied 
and lightened, as night came on, by the most magnificent flashes 
of lightning, made an impression on me that I can never forget. 
We did not get into Southampton till half past ten, and by that 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 79 

time it was raining heavily, and the large number of passengers 
who landed had a very disagreeable time getting down into the 
small steamer which was to take them ashore. Then we learned 
i the shocking news about President Garfield, and heard of the 
( disaster of the steamer Britannia. This made, of course, a great 
revulsion in our high spirits, which were further saddened by 
• our dear kind friend Dr. M.'s leaving us here. * * Before 
his departure he committed us to the care of Dr. K., who, with 
his family, was going on to Bremen. We dreaded much the 
passage through the North Sea, which, it was prophesied, would 
be rough ; and we looked forward with anxiety to sea-sickness, or 
storms, or both. We mercifully escaped them, however, and on 
a bright and beautiful Thursday morning landed from a small 
steamer, not on the . dock, but on a grassy German sward at 
Bremer-Havre. We waved an affectionate farewell to the good 
old Neckar, that had safely carried us through so many perils, 
and turned our faces inland once more. 

After waiting about twenty minutes in a large and very com- 
fortable station, we were put by Dr. K. into the train, furnished 
by the steampship company, to transport the passengers to 
Bremen. As soon as we w T ere seated in our coupe, which was 
filled by Ida K., Arnold K. (a very fine little fellow about 
twelve), Dr. R., Dr. W\, Miss N., and myself, the guard quietly 
locked the door and walked off; and I find that to be the custom 
here always. A two hours' ride across a very pretty and really 
picturesque country, refreshing to our sea-tired eyes, brought us 
into Bremen at two o'clock p. m. The noise and confusion at 
the station (all the vociferation in a foreign language, too) were 
really distressing; and I don't know what we should have done 
without Dr. K., who shoved us, Drs. R. and W., and all, into a 
cab, and took us to Hillmann's Hotel. After dinner at the table 
d'hote, for which we arrived just in time, and at which we were 
served to our ten courses (already grown familiar to us on the 
steamer), by very dignified and swallowtail-coated waiters, we 
all took a walk around Bremen, and found it a very quaint and 
interesting old city. 



80 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



Sunday afternoon, July 10. — We have just now returned 
from attending service at Mr. Gilderdale's beautiful little church, 
and I sit down once more to my letter, which, I fear, I will 
never finish, if I don't curtail my account of matters and things. 
We went through the curious old buildings in Bremen, and 
were specially interested in the Rath-Haus, the old Council 
Hall, of which I hope, one of these days, to bring you a very 
pretty photograph. We returned to the hotel for tea, slept 
there very comfortably, for the first time under eider-down 
quilts, and were up quite early on Friday morning, ready to 
start again. Dr. K., who left an hour before we did, showed 
Dr. W. how to attend to our trunks and have them exam- 
ined and checked through to Dresden, bade us good-bye, and we 
were left with our young friend, Dr. W., to play the part of 
"Greatheart" to us female pilgrims. He got us and our lug- 
gage safely on the right train at 7:40 A. M. We were locked into 
a comfortable second-class coupe, (everybody travels second-class 
in Germany), and we determined to look daggers at whoever 
passed that way in quest of seats, so that they would be impressed 
with the idea that we were a disagreeable and dangerous trio, 
and leave us the coupe to ourselves. Dr. W. doesn't speak Ger- 
man at all, neither does Miss N., and you ought to have seen how 
intently we studied the railway-map, pasted on the wall of the 
coupe, to see if w T e had understood the guard rightly as to the 
number of stations we had to pass before reaching CElzen, where 
we changed cars. We accomplished the change with success, but, 
alas! were obliged to get into a coupe with three other people, 
and, of course, couldn't have nearly so free-and-easy a time. 
We had some sandwiches for dinner, which Dr. W. bought at 
one of the stations ; and we did not reach Leipzig, where we 
stopped for about fifteen minutes, till after 6 o'clock. 

Miss X. had sent a telegram to Fraulein from Bremen, telling 
her that we would pass Leipzig at that time. So, as we neared 
the station, Miss N. and I endeavored to wipe some of the dust 



ST. MARY' 8 3IUSE. 81 

from our tired and begrimed countenances, and, when the guard 
unlocked the door, stepped in the station to look out for some 
trace of Fraulein. As we walked by the train, I saw an elderly 
lady advancing towards us with an inquiring, expectant look, 
and, I suppose, she saw the same expression in our faces; and 
so we knew one another at once. It was Frau Blume. She said, 
as well as I could understand (she doesn't speak any English), 
that Fraulein had gone to Vienna, and that the exact time of her 
return was uncertain, and asked if I would stay in Leipzig then, 
and go home with her. I thanked her heartily (she was very 
kind and pleasant), and told her that I would go on to Dresden 
and stay there for a week or so, but that I would write to her 
from Dresden (which I did yesterday, in German, too — think of 
it! without any assistance, — so I am very glad I'll not be there 
at the reading of it) and tell her at what time I would come to 
Leipzig, to her house. She assented very pleasantly. But just 
as we were in the midst of our colloquy, up rushes Dr. W., with 
a face full of alarm, vexation and confusion, and cries out that 
the train has gone on without us, but that it stopped on the other 
side of the station, and that we could catch it there, if we could 
find the place. A person speaking English, in the coupe 
where we had been, had told him so much. I was so alarmed 
and confused that I could scarcely muster enough German to 
explain to Fraiilein's uncle, who had come down to the station 
with Frau Blume, what was the matter and where we wanted to 
go. Well, we rushed frantically all around two or three squares 
(I all the time not being quite sure whether the old gentleman 
had understood me, and was taking us the right way), and arrived, 
breathless and panting, just in time to jump into the coupe before 
it was locked up. We laughed very heartily over the adventure 
afterwards, but at the time it was quite alarming. Fran Blume 
kissed us good-bye, and was altogether very kind. 

We got into Dresden at half past eight, and drove to the Hotel 
de Saxe, which had been recommended to Miss N., where, as soon 
as possible after getting something to eat, we both went to bed, I 
being much fatigued, and Miss N. suffering from headache occa- 



82 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

sioned by the dreadful jolting of the train and the closeness and 
dust of the eoupe. ***** 

Miss N. has not yet recovered from her fatigue and headache, 
so we have been able to do little, except yesterday to secure these 
pleasant lodgings, and this morning to go at eleven o'clock to the 
English Church, where we heard the full English service and a 
sermon from the Rev. Mr. Gilderdale. 

We have been attended on all our way by every blessing and 
mercy, and are glad to have had this opportunity of offering our 
humble and hearty thanksgiving in a service that differs very 
litte from our own. 



B L ONLINE 



CHAPTER III. 

THE FOREST OF LILACS. 

When Blondine entered the forest she began to gather branches 
of lilacs, rejoicing to find them so abundant and fragrant; as fast 
as she gathered them, she perceived others still more beautiful 
beyond, and emptied her apron and her hat, to fill them again. 
For more than an hour Blondine was thus occupied ; she was 
warm, she began to feel tired, the lilacs were heavy, and she 
thought it must be time to return to the palace. She turned and 
saw that she was surrounded with lilacs; she called Gourman- 
dinet; no one answered. "It appears that I have gone farther 
than I thought," said Blondine, "I will go back, for I am a little 
tired, and Gourmandinet, I am sure, will hear and come to meet 
me." She walked on for a good while, but did not see the end 
of the forest. Frequently she called Gourmandinet. No one 
replied. At last she began to be frightened. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 83 

" What will become of me all alone in this forest? What 
will my poor papa think when I do not return? And poor 
Gourmandinet; how will he dare to go back to the palace without 
me? He will be scolded, beaten perhaps, and all through my 
fault, because I would get down and pick the lilacs ! Unhappy 
child that I am ! I shall die of hunger and thirst in this forest, 
if indeed the wolves do not eat me up to-night." 

And Blond ine dropped on the ground at the foot of a large 
tree and began to weep bitterly. She wept for a long time; at 
last, weariness overcame her sorrow; she laid her head upon her 
bunch of lilacs, and went to sleep. 



CHAPTER IY. 

THE FIRST AWAKENING OF BLONDINE. BEAU MINON. 

Blondine slept all night; no ferocious beast came to disturb 
her slumber; the cold did not trouble her. It was pretty late 
when she awoke the next day; she rubbed her eyes, much sur- 
prised to see herself surrounded by trees, instead of finding her- 
self in her own room and in her bed. She called her maid ; a 
low mew answered her; astonished and almost frightened, she 
looked on the ground and saw at her feet a magnificent white cat, 
who looked at her mildly arid mewed. " Oh ! pretty puss, how 
beautiful you are," cried Blondine, smoothing its beautiful snow- 
white fur, " I am delighted to see you, Beau Minon, for you will 
show me the way to your home. But I am very hungry, and 
I have not the strength to walk before I have eaten something." 

Scarcely had she finished speaking when Beau Minon mewed 
again, and pointed with his little paw to a package lying near 
her, covered with a fine white cloth. She opened it and found 
slices of bread and butter. Taking a bite of one of them, she 
found it delicious, and gave little pieces to Beau Minon, who 
crunched them with great pleasure. When she and Beau Minon « 
had eaten enough, she bent over him, and caressed him, saying, 



84 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

"thank you, Beau Minon, for the breakfast you have brought 
me. Now can you direct me to my father, who must be 
terribly distressed at my absence?" Beau Minon shook his head, 
uttering a plaintive mew. "Ah ! you understand me, Beau 
Minon. Take pity on me, and lead me to some house, so that I 
shall not perish of hunger, and cold, and terror, in this dreadful 
forest." Beau Minon looked up at her, and, making a little 
sign with his white head, as much as to say he understood, 
jumped up, ran a little way, and returned to see if Blondine was 
following him. "Here I am, Beau Minon," said Blondine, "I 
am following you. But how can we pass through such a dense 
thicket? I cannot see the way." His only reply was to dart into 
the bushes, which opened of themselves to let Blondine and 
Beau Minon pass. Blondine walked in this way for an hour. 
The farther she advanced the clearer the forest became, and the 
more beautiful; the grass and flowers grew in abundance; gayly 
colored birds were seen, singing, and squirrels climbing along 
the branches. Blondine, who did not doubt but that she was 
now to leave the forest, and see her father again, was enchanted 
with everything that she saw; she would willingly have stopped 
to pick the flowers, but Beau Minon always trotted in front, and 
mewed sadly whenever the girl appeared about to stop. 

At the end of an hour, Blondine saw a magnificent castle. 
Beau Minon led her to the golden porch. Blondine did not know 
how to enter; there was no bell; and the gate was closed. 
Beau Minon had disappeared. Blondine was alone. 



CHAPTER V 

BONNE-BICHE. 



Beau Minon had entered by a little passage which seemed made 
expressly for him, and he probably summoned some one in the 
castle, for the door opened without Blondine's having called. 
She entered a vestibule of rare, white marble ; all the doors 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 85 

opened of themselves, like the first one, and Blondine passed 
through a suite of handsome apartments. Finally she saw, at 
the end of a handsome saloon of blue and gold, a white hind 
lying on a bed of fine and fragrant grass. Beau Minon was near 
her. The hind saw Blondine, arose, approached her, and said : 

"Welcome, Blondine; my son and I have awaited you for a 
long time." And then, as Blondine appeared frightened: "Do 
not be troubled, you are with friends. I know the king, your 
father, and I love him as much as you do." 

u Oh ! madam," said Blondine, "if you know my father, take 
me back to his palace ; my absence must make him very unhappy." 

"My dear Blondine," replied Bonne-Biche, sighing, "it is not 
in my power to restore you to your father. You are under the 
control of the enchanter of the forest of lilacs. I am myself 
under his power, which is superior to mine; but I can send to 
your father dreams which will reassure him in regard to your 
fate, and will let him know that you are with me." 

"What! madam," cried Blondine, in terror, "shall I never 
see my father again ? my poor father, whom I love so much!" 

"Dear Blondine, do not think of the future. Goodness is 
always rewarded. You shall see your father, but not yet; and 
while waiting, be good and docile. Beau Minon and I will do 
all in our power to make you happy." 

Blondine sighed and wept a few tears. Then she thought it 
would be a poor return for the kindness of Bonne-Biche to seem 
unhappy at the idea of staying with her, so she restrained her 
grief and forced herself to speak cheerfully. 

Bonne Biche and Beau Minon took her to see the room des- 
tined for her use. It was carpeted with rose-colored silk, em- 
broidered in gold ; the furniture was of white velvet, beauti- 
fully embroidered with bright-colored silks. Every kind of 
animal, birds, butterflies, and insects were represented. Near by 
was her boudoir, hung with sky-blue damask, embroidered with 
fine pearls. The furniture was covered with cloth of watered 
silver, fastened with large nails of turquoise. On the wall were 



86 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

hung two magnificent portraits, representing a young and hand- 
some woman and a charming young man. Their dress showed 
them to be of royal descent. 

"Whose portraits are those, madam?" asked Blondine, of 
Bonne-Biche. 

"I am forbidden to answer that question, dear Blondine. By- 
and-by you shall know. But it is time for dinner now. Come, 
Blondine, you must be hungry." 

Blondine was indeed faint with hunger. She followed Bonne- 
Biche and entered a dining-room where was an oddly arranged 
table. There was a large cushion of white satin placed on the 
floor for Bonne-Biche; before her, on the table, was a bunch of 
choice grasses, fresh and juicy. Near by was a golden trough 
full of fresh clear water. In front of Bonne-Biche was a little 
ottoman for Beau Minon, and before it was a golden porringer, 
full of fried fishes and snipes' legs ; and on one side a rock crys- 
tal bowl, full of fresh milk. Between Bonne-Biche and Beau 
Minon was the cover laid for Blondine. She had a little arm- 
chair of sculptured ivory, its cushions covered with macarat 
velvet, and fastened with diamond nails. Before her was a plate 
of fretted gold, containing a delicious soup of chicken and larks. 
Her glass and decanter were of rock crystal ; a light, tempting 
biscuit was put beside her spoon, which was of gold, as was also 
her fork. The table-cloth was of unequalled fineness. The din- 
ner was served by wonderfully intelligent gazelles; they waited 
upon Blondine, Bonne-Biche and Beau Minon, carved for them, 
and divined all their wants. The dinner was excellent; the 
fowl were the finest ; the game the rarest ; the fish the most deli- 
cate; the pies and sweetmeats delicious. 

Blondine was hungry; she ate some of each dish, and liked 
them all. 

After dinner, Bonne-Biche and Beau Minon led Blondine into 
the garden ; there she found juicy fruits and charming prome- 
nades. After a pleasant walk, Blondine re-entered the house 
with her new friends. She was tired. Bonne-Biche proposed 
that she should retire, and Blondine gladly assented. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 87 

She entered her sleeping apartment, where she found two 
gazelles waiting to serve her. They disrobed her with marvel- 
ous dexterity, placed her upon her bed and settled themselves 
to watch. 

Blondine soon went to sleep, but not before thinking of her 
father, and weeping bitterly because of her separation from him. 



CHAPTER VI. 

SECOND AWAKENING OP BLONDINE. 

Blondine slept soundly. When at last she awoke, she did not 
seem to herself the same person as when she went to sleep. She 
seemed larger; her mind seemed to have developed. She felt 
like an educated young lady. She remembered a crowd of books 
that she believed she had read during her sleep; she remembered 
having written, drawn, sung, played on the piano and the harp. 
Still, her room was the same that Bonne-Biche had shown her, 
and where she had gone to bed the night before. 

Excited and alarmed, she rose, ran to the glass and saw that 
she was tall, and, we must confess it, very charming, prettier a 
hundred times than when she went to sleep. Her beautiful 
golden hair fell to her feet; her pink and white complexion, 
pretty blue eyes, small, well-shaped nose, little ruby mouth, rosy 
cheeks, and slender and graceful form, made her the most win- 
some little person she had ever seen. 

Surprised, and almost frightened, she dressed herself hastily 
and ran to Bonne-Biche, whom she found in the apartment where 
she had seen her the first time. 

"Bonne-Biche! Bonne-Biche!" cried she, "do explain the 
change that I see and feel in myself. I lay down last night a 
child, I wake this morning a woman. Is it a dream, or have I 
really grown up in one night?" 

"It is true, Blondine, that you are to-day fourteen years old ; 
but your sleep lasted seven years. My son, Beau Minon, and I 
wished to spare you .the weariness of the first studies. When 



88 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

you came here you knew nothing, not even how to read. I put 
you to sleep for seven years, and during this time Beau Minon 
and I have taught you. I see in your eyes that you doubt your 
own capabilities. Come with me into the study, and assure your- 
self of all that you know." 

Blondine followed Bonne-Biche into the study; she went to 
the piano, began to play, and found that she could do so very 
nicely ; she tried her harp, and drew from it the most enchant- 
ing music; she sang wonderfully ; she took pencils and brushes, 
and drew and painted with an ease that showed real talent; she 
tried to write and found herself as skillful in that as in other 
things ; she ran her eyes over some books and remembered hav- 
ing read almost all of them. Surprised, delighted, she threw her 
arms around Bonne-Biche's neck, lovingly embraced Beau 
Minon, and said : 

"Oh! my good, my dear, my true friends! how grateful I 
ought to be to you for having thus cared for my infancy, devel- 
oped my mind and my heart; for I feel that all within me is 
improved, and that it is to you that I owe it all." 

Bonne-Biche returned her caresses, Beau Minon licked her 
hands lightly. When the first moments of happiness had passed, 
Blondine dropped her eyes and said, timidly : 

" Do not think me ungrateful, my good and excellent friends, 
if I ask you to add a new kindness to those I have received from 
you. Tell me of my father. Does he still weep for me? Has 
he been happy since he lost me?" 

"Your wish is too natural not to be gratified. Look in this 
mirror, Blondine, and you will see all that has happened since 
your departure, and how your father is now." 

Blondine raised her eyes and saw in the mirror her father's 
apartment. The king was walking up and down in much agi- 
tation. He seemed to be waiting for some one. Queen Four- 
bette entered, and told him that Blondine, in spite of the entreaties 
of Gourmandinet, had driven the ostriches herself; that they 
had run away, hurried towards the forest of lilacs, and over- 
turned the carriage; that Blondine had been thrown over the 



1ST. MARY'S MUSE. 89 

grating into the forest; that Gourmandinet had lost his reason 
from fright and grief, and she had sent him home to his parents. 
The king was in despair at these tidings; he hastened to the forest 
of lilacs, and force was required to prevent him from rushing in 
to look for his dear Blondine. He was brought back to the 
palace, where he gave himself up to deep despondency, calling 
ceaselessly for his little one, his Blondine. At last he went to 
sleep, and saw in a dream Blondine in the palace of Bonne- 
Biche and Beau Minon. Bonne-Biche assured him that Blon- 
dine should one day be restored to him, and that her childhood 
should be calm and happy. 

The mirror then clouded over, everything disappeared. Soon 
it became clear again, and Bloudine again saw her father. He 
had grown old; his hair was white, and he was very sad; he 
held in his hand a little picture of Blondine, which lie often 
kissed, weeping. He was alone. Blondine saw neither the 
queen nor Brunette. 

Poor Blondine wept bitterly. 

"Why," said she, " is my father alone? Where is my sis- 
ter, Brunette, and the queen ?" 

"The queen showed so little sorrow at your death (for you 
were believed to be dead, dear Blondine,) that the king, in hor- 
ror, sent her away to her father, King Turbulent. He shut her 
up in a tower, where she soon died of rage and ennui. As to 
your sister, Brunette, she became so wicked, so insufferable, that 
the king was obliged, last year, to give her in marriage to Prince 
Violent, who took upon himself to reform her wicked and envious 
disposition. He treated her harshly, and she saw that wicked 
behavior would not bring her happiness. So, gradually she 
begins to grow a little better. You shall see her some day, and, 
by your example, complete the transformation." 

Blondine thanked Bonne-Biche for these details. She would 
have liked to ask, " When shall I see my father and my sister ?" 
but she was afraid that it would look as though she was in a 
hurry to leave her benefactress, and would seem ungrateful ; so 
she waited for another opportunity. 



90 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Blondine's days passed without weariness, because she was so 
busy all the time; but once in a while she felt sad. She could 
not talk with any one except Bonne-Biche, who was not with her 
except during lessons and at meals. Beau Minon could not 
answer, and made himself understood only by signs. The gazelles 
waited upon Blondine gladly and intelligently, but not one of 
them could speak. When Blondine took her walks she was 
always accompanied by Beau Minon, who showed her the pret- 
tiest paths and the most beautiful flowers. Bonne-Biche had 
made Blondine promise that she would never go outside the 
enclosure of the park, and that she would never enter the forest. 
Many times Blondine asked her the cause of this prohibition. 
Bonne-Biche always answered, sighing : 

"Ah! Blondine, do not ask to penetrate into the forest; it is 
a forest full of evil. May you never enter it !" 

Sometimes Blondine would go up into a summer-house, which 
was on a height on the border of the forest ; she saw magnifi- 
cent trees, beautiful flowers, millions of birds who sang and flut- 
tered about as if calling her. u Why," said she to herself, "does 
not Bonne-Biche wish me to walk in this beautiful forest? What 
danger can I meet with here, under her protection ?' r Whenever 
she thought in this wise, Beau Minon, who seemed to under- 
stand what was passing in her mind, would mew, take hold of 
her dress, and force her to leave the summer-house. Blondine 
would smile, follow Beau Minon and continue her walk in the 

solitary park. 

[to be continued.] 



AN ALLEGORY. 



One evening in June, I was sitting in a large arm chair on the 
broad piazza which surrounded our house. The moon shone 
softly through the jasmine vines, while the sweet fragrance of 
the flower was wafted to me on the breeze. Lulled by the sound 
of the distant locusts, and the murmur of voices which came 
through the low French window, I fell asleep. 



ST. MARYS MUSE. 91 

Suddenly I saw coming up the walk leading from the front 
gate, a curious looking little man. He had a very pleasant face, 
and his bright black eyes sparkled merrily. He came up to me, 
and with a quaint bow, said : "I am a messenger of the King of 
Never, and I have come to invite you to a feast, given to celebrate 
the wedding of the king's son, Unready." 

" Who is the Kjug of Never?" I said. 

" It is strange that you have not heard of my Prince," replied 
the little man, " he and his castle are famous throughout the 
world. The castle is reached by the road of ' By-and-By/ which 
is also renowned. Many people visit the king in his beautiful 
palace. Some of his visitors are young; others just reaching 
years of womanhood or manhood, and some are very old. The 
rich and poor are received alike at his hospitable table, and it 
makes no difference whether one goes in rags or velvet, he is 
welcomed with equal cordiality. The king is always chanmed to 
have people visit him, but it is not often that he deigns to send 
them an invitation ; indeed," added the little man, with a merry 
chuckle, " there is no need, so many go of their own accord." 

" I will immediately go and get ready to attend the marriage," 
I said. 

The little man looked so bright and entertaining, that I was 
in a great hurry to get back to him, for fear he would vanish as 
suddenly as he had appeared ; so I hastily made rfry preparations, 
and rejoined him on the piazza. He was still standing where I 
had left him, on the steps, twisting a piece of jasmine between 
his fingers, and looking much amused at all he saw. 

Just as we were starting, I heard my mother calling me to help 
her transplant some flowers. I felt that I ought to go, but I 
could not resist the merry eyes of the little man, which seemed 
to be begging me to come with him ; and besides, I hoped to be 
much amused by the stories that he would tell me on the way. 
To-morrow would do for the flowers; and it was not every day 
that one received an invitation from the King of Never. So 
I answered that " I would come and help ' By-and-By.' " And 



92 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

lo! no sooner had I uttered these words than everything was 
changed, as by magic. The house and garden disappeared, and 
I seemed to be on a lovely road. 

" This," said my companion, " is the road of 'By-and-By' which 
leads to the House of Never." 

The way was more beautiful than any I had ever seen; well 
shaded by trees, and bordered by flowers. I paused to gaze on 
the blossoms of the beautiful trees, and pulled one of the pink 
peach blossoms. The petals were perfect, but, to my surprise, 
the fruit cradle was empty. The apple trees too, showed no 
signs of harvest. 

"The trees of the road of 'By-and-By' never bear fruit," 
said my guide. "In the spring the flowers bloom, and some- 
times tiny fruit forms, but it always drops before coming to 
maturity." 

Then I saw that the maple trees, which looked so flourishing, 
sent out no little winged messengers to plant themselves in other 
places and, springing up, grow into beautiful trees. The oaks, 
also, had no acorns upon them; the empty cups were there, but 
the substance was gone. There was nothing from which new 
oaks could grow, so that when these trees died there would be 
more to take their places. 

" Listen," said my guide, "do you not hear something?" 

From the fruitless branches of the maples came the whisper 
" By-and-By," and the sound was echoed by the oaks. "By-and- 
By," sang the maples, "we will sow our seed." 

" To-morrow," said the oaks, " will be time enough for acorns." 

High in the sky was an early lark, who had been up and 
singing gaily since daylight. He laughed mockingly at the 
invitation from the lazy birds of the road of 'By-and-By/ to 
come and join them. 

"No, thank you, dear friends," he seemed to say, "no doubt 
your road is very pleasant, but I cannot put off my duties until 
'By-and-By,' I must hurry home to feed my nest-full of young." 

He flew off with a gay carol, while the little birds around me 
lazily chirped "By-and-By," and fell asleep. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 93 

Pretty children were playing merry games beneath the trees, 
and their bright, happy voices were pleasant to hear. Their 
school-books lay unheeded upon the ground, while they gaily 
pursued bright-winged butterflies, or watched the wayward 
movements of the humming-bird. The sound of the bell calling 
them to school was unheeded; they only paused a moment in 
the chase, and then disappeared behind the tall trees. No doubt 
they thought that 'By-and-By,' when the lovely butterfly was 
safely imprisoned in their tiny pinafore, would be time enough 
to return to the school-room, and dry books. 

We walked on, and at every step the road became more beau- 
tiful. Lovely flowers were growing at its side, and at short 
distances from each other were rustic arbors, over which wild- 
rose vines twined, until reaching the top they drooped over from 
the very weight of the blossoms. In these arbors were many 
people; some working at unfinished tasks, and others with hands 
calmly folded, while time passed slowly on. In one I saw a 
young girl ; her bright brown hair fell in soft curls upon her 
fair forehead, the white dimpled hands were folded carelessly in 
her lap, while her dark eyes gazed towards the distant clouds. 
Her thoughts were entirely of the dim future; she was ponder- 
ing over what would be " By-and-By," not trying to improve 
the present. At her right was a spinning-wheel, which once had 
turned merrily, but now was still; and the delicately shaded 
silk lay un cared for and forgotten at her feet. 

A tall, dark haired man was seeking in vain the answer for 
which he had waited so long. Even the flowers seemed to join 
in the wooing, as, swayed to and fro by the wind, they kissed her 
blushing cheek. 

I would have liked to remain longer, but my guide hastened 
me on. We next passed an arbor shaded with deep red roses, 
in which two young men were seated. They were a striking con- 
trast; the younger, tall, handsome, with genius shining in his 
eyes; his companion, exactly his opposite. Decanters of spark- 



£4 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

ling wine had pushed aside the young author's manuscript, and 
a harsh laugh came from lips which could speak in most musi- 
cal rhythm. 

" It is sad/' said even the herald of the House of Never, " to 
see such genius so degraded." 

Soou we heard the sound of horses' hoofs, and turning saw, 
advancing rapidly, eight warriors splendidly mounted on fiery 
steeds. Their armor shone brightly in the sunlight, and light 
laughter rang on the air. Suddenly the sound of a distant 
trumpet was heard. They halted and held a consultation. 
Should they lose the chance of a victory which would, perhaps, 
enroll their names among the heroes of the world? Should they 
obey the call of duty? or turn a deaf ear and continue their 
reckless pleasure? One knight, whose fair Saxon face was 
flushed with excitement, said : 

"Let us wait until to-morrow, when there will be another 
battle. Come, continue the hunt, and let not the pleasures of 
to-day be marred by any thought of duty. 'By-and-By,' when we 
are weary of the chase, we can return to the battle." 

So they rode swiftly on, singing 

"Beyond the gates of to-day, 

Lies the beautiful realm of to-morrow, 
A land of laughter gay, 

That knows no toil or sorrow." 

Next we saw an old man with long snowy hair. His blue eyes 
were dim and pale; he held in his trembling hand a quill, but 
he was not writing, and the thickly written pages upon his knee 
were brown with age. He raised his head, and looked at us an 
instant as we passed, then continued to contemplate the grass 
beneath his feet. 

" I have been employed as a guide by the King of Never for 
twenty years," said my companion, "and every time I pass that 
old man, he is sitting in the same position, always holding his 
pen and thinking, but never writing a word. Tradition says 
that he was one of the most brilliant men in the world. He 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 95 

commenced to write his book when quite young, but he was much 
fonder of pleasure than work, and would put off his book upon 
the slightest pretext. Now I am afraid it will never be finished." 

At last we came to a beautiful river, where a ferry-boat waited 
to conduct us to the other side. The willows on the bank 
whispered "By-and-By" to the silvery waves, and the words 
came in hollow echoes through the rocky caverns. How strange, 
I thought, that the murmurings which had pleased me, so short 
a time ago, should now weary me. Even the river, dancing 
merrily in the sunshine, was tiresome; there was no life about it, 
only the empty show of the surface. The little boat shot swiftly 
through the blue water. The ferryman .told us stories of the 
people whom he had rowed across the river; and all had been so 
full of hopes. 

As we neared the other shore, I noticed that the waves grew 
dark and ceased to sport in the sunlight; even the flowers were 
dim and faded, while the trees almost moaned "Never." The 
boat stopped before a large iron gate. My companion knocked, 
and a servant bade us enter. I found myself in an immense 
park. Only a few leaves clung to the tall trees, and they were 
sere and brown ; even the grass was withered and dry. Low, 
mournful sighs filled the air. The park was full of people, but 
there was not one joyous face. 

I recognized many of those whom I had seen happy and gay 
on the road of " By-and-By." The fair young girl was sitting 
under a withered tree; her eyes, still fixed upon vacancy, were 
dim, and her pretty face was pale and hopeless. The palace of 
the King of Never was of gray stone, and looked very much like 
a prison. Despairing faces were gazing with longing eyes from 
the windows upon the beautiful road of "By-and-By" which they 
had left so lately, and which now seemed "so near and yet so far." 
At the foot of the steps I saw eight warriors, their horses panting 
and bleeding. The weary riders were begging an interview with 
the King of Never, in order to implore him to allow them to 
return. Could these be the happy, hopeful knights whom we had 



96 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

seen on the road of "By-and-By?" Yes; I recognized the face 
of the handsome young Saxon who had been so intent upon 
pleasure. 

"Where is the bride ?" I asked my companion ; " I was invited 
to a wedding, and surely these doleful people cannot be the 
marriage guests." The little man laughed until he cried. 

" So you really expected to see a grand wedding, did you ? " 
he said as soon as he could speak. "Well, you are only one 
among the thousands whom the King of Never has fooled. 
Poor, silly child, did you really expect anything to happen at the 
House of Never ? " 

"And so I have walked all this distance for nothing?" I 
asked, shaking with fury. I felt like slapping the little old man, 
and I think I should have done so, but just then I heard a shout 
of laughter, and woke. 

It was some time before I could realize that I had not stirred 
from the big arm chair, and that I had not really been to the 
House of Never. 



MY OPPOSITE NEIGHBOR. 



When I was quite a little girl, I lived in London with my 
father, who was book-keeper for a small establishment in that 
city. I have only an indistinct recollection of what passed in 
those days, for I was but a mite of four-and-a-half years when 
my father's health gave way, and the physicians advised him to 
go into the country. To do this, he was obliged to give up his 
position; and, after paying all the debts which he had incurred 
during his illness, he found there was but little left. So we went 
far away to live, and my father became tenant of a small cottage 
which, with the castle near by, belonged to Lord S. 

A few months before the time of which I am going to speak, 
Lord S. had come to live in the castle, bringing with him 
his young and beautiful daughter. I was then only a child of 



ST. MARY'S M USE. 97 

ten, but I well remember how the walls of the castle echoed with 
her merry laughter, and that of her lively guests. I often saw 
this lovely young lady walking in the garden, sometimes alone 
and sometimes with a friend. The first time she spoke to me 
I was very much frightened, but there was no reason for being 
so, since one sweeter or gentler in manners never lived. She was 
walking alone in the grounds, and I was standing at my father's 
gate, my eyes fixed upon her in an admiring gaze. She called 
me to her, asked my name, and told me that I might sometimes 
come and play in the grounds. I thanked her, and it was not 
long before I went, and had the pleasure of speaking with her. 
Afterwards she never saw me without giving me a pleasant smile 
and word, sometimes even talking to me; and with only that 
little intercourse I learned to love her very dearly. I did not 
long go to the gardens to play, for the castle became full of hand- 
some gentlemen and pretty ladies. I heard that the lord was 
soon to give a grand ball in honor of his daughter's birthday; 
so this was the reason of the coming of so many people. 

Before the castle became inhabited the old housekeeper had 
allowed me to play about it, and to roam through the spacious 
halls. Once only was I admitted into the rooms, where every- 
thing was grand, but the gloom was almost death-like. Most 
of the shutters were closed ; yet, now and then, enough light strug- 
gled in for me to discern the frescoes gleaming from the ceiling. 
As I passed through the rooms so vast, so still, I shuddered, and 
a chilly feeling crept over me. 

Not thus do I now recall the stately mansion. The night of 
the ball it was lighted up like a fairy palace. From the gables 
and the ivy-clad tower, clouds of tiuted light kindled the atmos- 
phere to a soft, golden haze. The tall old trees seemed bending 
beneath the weight of stars, so thickly were they hung with 
lights whose rays made bright even the depths of the foliage. 
The ivy leaves about the windows seemed bathed in starlight, 
aud the woodbine to be on fire. More beautiful still was the 
conservatory, filled with blossoming plants and illuminated by 
lamps that swung from the crystal dome. Soft mosses and vines 
6 



98 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

crept over the wall. It was like entering fairy-land to go into 
that star-lit wilderness of flowers. But enough; I must return 
to ray lady. She had kindly given me permission to come and 
see her in her ball dress. So I put on my best plaid frock, 
brushed my hair very neatly, and went to the castle. I slipped 
in at the back entrance and ascended a flight of stairs. How 
different was the light and warmth from the darkness which had 
once haunted the place! A door swung open to my touch, and 
I found myself in my lady's boudoir. There I saw a lovely 
figure reflected from the mirror before which her ladyship was 
standing. She turned as I entered, and oh, how radiant, how 
lovely she was! Her every movement was full of grace and 
animation. I shall never forget her bright smile; to me it even 
surpassed the brilliancy of the gems in her dark tresses. She 
said: "So you have found me, little one, and are you pleased?" 
I could only answer by a look, which, I am sure, expressed far 
more than words. She talked all the while gaily and sweetly, 
and I soon regained my composure. At length the maid, having 
put the finishing touch, reminded her lady that the guests would 
be waiting. So, with a smile, she left the boudoir. I bade the 
maid good-night and stole down the steps. In passing through 
the lower hall my ear caught the sound of music. It was very 
tempting, and I crept around the castle until I came to one of 
the windows of the dancing-hall. The scene was splendid beyond 
anything I had ever imagined. Just as I drew near the window 
there was a lull in the dancing, and I beheld the charming hos- 
tess standing beneath the blaze of a chandelier, her eyes spark- 
ling with joy as she made a laughing reply to the gentleman at 
her side. I remained in my hiding-place but a few moments, 
and then ran home, kissed my father and went to my room. I 
think I was at my window half the night, gazing towards the 
castle and imagining how everything looked in the gay ball-room. 
It was over at last. The dancing-hall and conservatory slept 
quietly in the moonlight, everything was dim and shadowy, and 
at last I threw myself on my bed and closed my eyes. I doubt 



ST. MARY'S M USE. 99 

if any of the gay ladies at the castle, who had danced all night, 
were as tired as their interested little neighbor. 

The guests left the castle a few days after the ball, taking with 
them the fair young mistress. I saw her but once before she 
went. She was walking in the grounds as I had first seen her, 
but this time not alone. The same gentleman who was with her 
in the ball-room accompanied her, and they were talking low and 
earnestly. As soon as she spied me, she called me and told me 
of her departure, and bade me good-bye. I think she saw the 
tears in my eyes, for she said she would often think of me, and 
that I must not forget her. There w T as little danger of that, and 
even now I wonder if I shall ever see again my ideal of beauty 
and goodness. Before she returned, I went with my father to 
live in a town many miles distant. I have heard that she mar- 
ried a young lord and that they live in her former home, the old 
castle. Though I am now an old woman, still, fresh and dear 
to my heart is my childhood's "opposite neighbor." 



RECORDS. 



Records were made to aid memory ; for without them she 
could not be able to perform her immense work. Even with all 
the assistance she now has through books, monuments, and nature's 
many records, her task is heavy. This world would be in a sad 
condition if every inventor and scientist had not had handed 
down to him the records of his predecessors. What would be 
the result if this generation were obliged to begin where our 
fathers did? Where would be the wonders of the nineteenth 
century, and all the comforts which time and civilization have 
brought us? We should be even as the rude pre-historic races. 

Among the ancients, we find that the greatest people were the 
most patriotic, and their love of country was instilled by an 
unwritten history of the past. The old legends were repeated 



100 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

again and again in their every-day life, and when they marched 
into battle with those songs upon their lips and those records in 
their hearts, they were clad in impenetrable armor. It is a 
nation's past that urges her sons to make the future more glorious; 
it is her record of valiant deeds that inspire them to greater 
daring. 

Before writing was invented, men commemorated their heroic 
achievements by songs and stories which they transmitted to their 
children and their children's children. The Egyptians were the 
first to perpetuate their records in what we call hieroglyphics. 
Mythology shows us how easily an imaginative and superstitious 
people may depart from a true statement of facts, or mingle with 
it the creations of fancy. Yet these songs and stories answered 
the purpose better than a prosaic, though more correct history 
would have done. The fanciful legends, rooted themselves 
in the imagination and held all that was needed to rouse 
and inspire. Where is the heart that will not respond with pride 
and joy to the praises of its native land? Even modern minds 
turn eagerly to these old legends, and we forget, in the fanciful 
story, that we are studying the history of a people. Yet almost 
unnoticed in the web of fiction, there is the golden thread of 
truth ; and if these are not records of actual events, they are 
revelations of the minds of the people. 

. Since the invention of writing and printing we keep our records 
with comparative ease. As the world grows older and its history 
longer, the number of books increases, and now every one may 
come and drink of the fountain of knowledge. From north to 
south, from east to west, no country is unattainable. With Muller, 
we may explore all the natural kingdoms of the earth, and with 
Tyndall, scale the highest mountains. The sea no more hides 
its treasures, and the mysteries of the starry heavens are revealed. 
The past can no longer bury its dead, for its records bring all into 
the living present. Now we wander with Ulysses, and now we 
attend Eneas in his perilous adventures. At the table of Maece- 
nas we listen to the conversation of Horace and Virgil, or look- 
ing down into the Greek amphitheatre, we lose ourselves in the 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 101 

drama of iEschylus. On the vine-clad hills of Greece, under 
her azure skies, we hear again those beautiful stories from the 
lips of Homer, Pindar and Euripides, and with songs mount the 
cloud-capped Olympus to the awful throne of Jove. 

But nature has fuller records than the histories of nations. 
All her forms are full of meaning, from the delicate curve of the 
rose's petal to the rugged outline of the jutting precipice. The 
glorious sunshine flashes forth and gives color to the landscape; 
here a delicate tint, there a bright touch, and all softened by a 
shadow. It is a faultless picture. But look deeper. Nature 
was not meant only to please the eye. She lays before us a 
mighty volume, whose every page is filled with wonders. From 
it the child begins to learn, and the sage despairs of reading all 
its mysteries. We may see a page in the opening bud. In it is 
the record of sunshine and of rain. It tells us how, in the early 
morning, it drank the refreshing dew and stole its lovely color 
from the first sunbeam. Looking deep into its heart, we see pre- 
dictions more wonderful than the leaf-written prophecies of the 
Cumsean Sibyl. A new life is foretold. In the little seed each 
form and feature of the future tree is as surely held as when, 
after the rain and sun and nourishing earth have done their work, 
it waves its leaves in the summer air. 

Besides giving us her book to read, our loving mother sings 
to us songs and stories of wonderful beauty. As the priestess 
of Dodona interpreted the words of Jupiter in the rustling of 
the leaves, so, if our hearts be opened to nature's language, we 
may hear the voice of our God. Through the leafy oaks and 
lofty pines the winds softly sing of His loving kindness in send- 
ing the clouds laden with refreshment for the thirsty earth. The 
icy winter blasts whistle and shout tales of snow-enshrouded 
lands, of icebergs and mighty glaciers, from whose feet leap the 
sparkling waters that enrich the earth and gladden the hearts of 
men. These are nature's records; and yet, more durable ones than 
these. She has taken care that none of her works shall be for- 
gotten. On tablets of stoue she has written the story of seons 



102 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

that have passed away, a story of wind and rain, extremes 
of cold and heat, and great internal commotions of the earth. 
She gives us likenesses of the strange creatures that have inhab- 
ited the earth. Neither vegetable nor animal life is forgotten. 
She has impressed on the solid rock her most delicate fern ; from 
its simple outline on the hard stone we may picture the tall frond 
standing among its sister ferns amid mosses of luxuriant growth. 
Down in the deep blue sea we find a record in lines of crimson 
and rose, and the rush of waters through these coral groves con- 
verts the written story into a song. 

By records the world is bound together, and the great human 
family is drawn into closer brotherhood. The uttermost parts 
of the earth are our possessions, and all time is brought into the 
present. Through these records, not only is man united to man, 
but nature's heart and man's beat in unison, and in one mighty 
throb echo the infinite love of their great Creator. 



THE STORY OF A WORK-BASKET 



The basket was made of cane which had once grown upon the 
bank of a creek, among a profusion of gay and delicate wild 
flowers and graceful grasses. The cane was thick and tall, and the 
air was filled with sweet odors. Winter came and the flowers lay 
in the ground asleep, but the cane was bright and green, although 
the cold wind whistled through it. One day some Indians went 
to the creek and cut down the finest cane, to make blow-guns 
and baskets. An old Indian woman gave a nice work-basket to 
a lady who had been kind to her. 

The basket at first disliked to carry things, and would spill 
them out whenever it had a chance. But it soon grew accustomed 
to this new way of living, and became attached to the articles 
that it contained, so when any of the things were misplaced it 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 103 

always felt grieved, and was glad when they were found again. 
Then, too, it used to have pleasant times listening to the stories 
i that each had to tell. All the things loved to talk to the basket; 
; and particularly the new comers liked to hear the charming tales 
which the old things had to relate. Every night, when the 
whole household was asleep and the work-basket was in its 
usual place on the wardrobe shelf, they would play in their quiet 
way so as to disturb no one. 

Once upon an icy cold night, when the basket and its friends — 
the whole contents — were dancing to a dreary tune which the 
wind sang around the house, a brisk little mouse ran down into 
the basket and greatly enlivened the merriment. For five or six 
nights in succession it came, being always welcomed, for he was 
a very bright mouse, and both said and did some quite funny 
things. Now he had an object in view, which he soon proceeded 
to carry out. He gnawed bits of cloth and took them away to 
make his nest. The pincushion was found with a large hole in 
it, and the work-basket was much distressed, thinking some lazy 
moth had done the mischief. The very next night the mouse 
was detected gnawing on the emery-bag. The other things were 
furious at this insult. Thev all attacked him in right good 
earnest; finally the scissors seized the thimble, and with it gave 
the mouse such a sound rap on the head, that Squire Nibble 
scampered away in a different frame of mind and body than 
when he had entered the basket. 

One evening, as the lady was sitting by the fire with her basket 
of stockings to darn, the baby came and wished to play with 
some buttons that were in it. He thrust his tiny hands into the 
basket, but in doing so upset it, scattering the contents on the 
floor, while the basket itself fell in the midst of the burning 
coals. The mother rescued it with the tongs, before it had under- 
gone any injury. 

One warm summer night, when our basket and friends were too 
tired to have their usual games, who should presume to visit 
them, all uninvited, but a little green grasshopper. He was a 
vain, impudent creature, and with no small self admiration. 



104 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

He was specially proud of his singing, which was nothing but 
a shrill cry. This he began to display, and he not only began, 
but continued, and never would have ended until daybreak if 
his hearers had not put an end to his life. The next day he was 
found impaled to the sides of the basket, on many pins and 
needles. 

Six years passed and nothing happened worthy of mention. 
At the end of that time the lady gave the basket to her daughter, 
an industrious little girl, who liked very much to sew for her dolls. 
For two or three months she kept it in the best kind of order. 
Then it became too troublesome to keep it neat, and she put all 
sorts of things in it. Now it was full of wraps for a doll-quilt, 
now filled with rough-dried clothes; numerous pebbles and acorns 
found their way into it. One day she took it to the woods to 
gather ferns and mosses ; another day, when she gave her dolls 
a party out of doors, she lost it and did not find it till a week 
afterwards, when it was almost ruined from exposure to the sun 
and dews. She then put it away in the garret, packed with old 
letters. 

The little girl soon discovered that she could not get along 
without her work-basket ; so she brought it down again, and 
once more kept it neat. She did not care for dolls now, but 
loved to sew for herself and her mother. In a few weeks the 
family left the country to spend the winter with some cousins in 
the city. Most of the journey was by water, on the river. The 
little girl took her basket to sew out on the deck of the steam- 
boat. The wind blew it overboard. A skiff happening to pass 
just then, the basket was caught and restored to its owner. She 
did not care for it now, as it was so old and worn out. So she 
gave it to a negro girl, who was glad to get it. The basket was 
used for about a year longer, and then was thrown away. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 105 



A TEN DAYS' QUEEN. 






The last rays of the setting sun made an old castle on the 
banks of the Thames look like an enchanted palace. The gor- 
geous colors, changing in hue each moment, were reflected in the 
mullioned windows. Even the dark leaves of the ivy were 
bright, and the trees seemed one mass of ever-shifting light and 
shade. But Lady Jane Grey heeded none of the loveliness of 
the summer evening. Her eyes were fixed intently on the river, 
as if she were wondering whether her life would flow as smoothly, 
with scarcely a ripple to break its calm surface. She was 
awakened from this reverie by her father, who, with unusual 
tenderness, led her to the house, where the Duke of Northum- 
berland awaited her. 

As soon as she entered the room the Ministers of State, who 
had come with all speed from London, fell upon their knees and 
greeted her as Queen of England. Bewildered, she looked with 
beseeching eyes toward her father, begging him to tell her what 
this thing could mean. In answer, he handed her the will of 
her late cousin, Edward the Sixth, in which were set aside the 
claims of the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth, and Lady Jane 
Grey was chosen, in their stead, successor to the throne. As she 
read, she fainted. On recovering, she plead, with tears and prayers, 
that the kingdom might be given to any one, so that she might 
not be Queen of England, for she was utterly incapable of gov- 
erning. But these men, who had been in the minority during 
the reigfi of Protestant Edward, knew well that if Lady Jane did 
not accept the crown it must go to the Princess Mary, the right- 
ful heir; and she, being a most bigoted Roman Catholic, would 
not only have a new Ministry, composed of men of her religion, 
but might take the lives of the former Ministers because of their 
faith. They knew, also, that by raising Lady Jane to the throne 
they themselves would virtually become the power of the realm. 
7 



106 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

So, by telling her that it was her duty to take the crown and so 
uphold her faith, and by causing her father to persuade her, they 
overcame her scruples. Sadly she accepted the honor which to 
her could be only a burden. 

Early next morning, as Lady Jane looked toward the river, 
she saw only the mist covering her barge. Was it not a vail of 
tears for one so young and fair, now going forth to sorrow and to 
death ? And Lady Jane thought she saw herself upon the barge, 
as silent as Elaine, and, like her, borne to her burial. 

No heartfelt greeting met her when she landed at London. 
The people were filled with awe at the sight of a Queen who 
seemed rather a statue than a living being. Followed by her 
people, she was led by the Duke of Northumberland to the 
Tower, there to await her coronation. 

Mary, who had been informed of her brother's death, had 
gone into Norfolk, and, by the aid of powerful nobles, had 
raised troops to support her cause. Soon after she was pro- 
claimed Queen of England at Norwich; for the people thought 
that the right to reign was hers, and they hated the Duke of 
Northumberland. 

The Council, roused by these events, wished to send Lady 
Jane's father, the Duke of Suffolk, against the force; but Lady 
Jane implored that he might remain with her. Her love for her 
father was far greater than her desire for a kingdom. So the 
Duke of Northumberland, much against his will, was obliged to 
take the command. 

The army set forth with no confident hopes of victory, for 
treachery suspects treachery; hence they greatly mistrusted the 
Council. And their suspicions were well founded; for no sooner 
had they left than the Council began to debate Mary's right to 
the throne, and it decided that, all things considered, the Pro- 
testant religion had nothing to fear from her. Thereupon the 
Princess Mary was proclaimed Queen at the Cross by St. Paul's, 
and there was great rejoicing throughout the kingdom. 

For ten days Lady Jane Grey had remained at the Tower, 
receiving the homage of a Queen. Although of royal blood, 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 107 

such a life was not pleasing to her, and she pined for her home, 
where she might enjoy, as before, the society of her loved ones. 
Therefore, when she learned that Mary was made Queen in her 
stead, she laid aside the crown with delight, saying that she had 
accepted it only in obedience to her father. But she was not 
destined to take up the broken thread of her old life and live in 
happy obscurity. For at the earliest opportunity Mary called 
a council which declared guilty of treason, Lady Jane, her father, 
and her husband. 

This act of Mary's was certainly cruel ; but when we take into 
consideration her character and the circumstances of her life, it 
is not strange. Her childhood had been passed at the court of 
Henry the Eighth, where the basest deceit and most open flat- 
tery reigned. She saw her mother wronged and Anne Boleyn 
made Queen, her mother's religion attacked on every side, and 
what she had been taught to regard as heresy established as the 
Church of England. Her girlhood had been passed with her 
mother, and both were continually subjected to insult. Her 
mind had been narrowed and her life embittered. Lady Jane 
Grey was of that hated Anglican Church, now grown powerful; 
and Mary was as constant to her church as to her mother. What 
wonder is it that she was so severe with Lady Jane Grey? 

Lady Jane was put in prison to await her death. Through 
the bars of her window she saw her beloved husband led to the 
scaffold ; his bleeding body brought back. In her agony she 
cried, " O, God ! have compassion on me, before my heart 
breaks !" And the God whom she had never forsaken gave her 
comfort in her sore need. 

Lady Jane was sentenced to be beheaded on the twelfth of 
February. When Feckenham, the Queen's Chaplain, heard of 
this he flew to her and represented "that indeed the time was 
fearfully short for preparation of any kind; and how could she 
expect Lady Jane to die a Catholic, if she was hurried thus to 
the block without time for conviction." Mary immediately 
delayed the execution for several days. 



108 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Lady Jane smiled mournfully on her zealous friend when he 
brought her the news of this delay. She told him he had mis- 
taken her. She wished not for delay of her sentence, but for 
quiet from disputation. Then she added, "I am prepared to 
receive patiently my death in any manner it may please the Queen 
to appoint; true, my flesh shudders, as is natural to frail humanity, 
but my spirit will spring rejoicing into the eternal light, where 
I hope the mercy of God will receive it." 

On the appointed day Lady Jane Grey, sustained by strength 
given her from above, walked calmly to the scaffold. She tied 
the kerchief about her eyes, then, feeling for the block, said: 
" Where is it? what shall I do?" When it was shown to her 
she folded her hands in prayer, and said : " Lord, into Thy hands 
I commend my spirit." 

As she finished these words a cloud passed across the sky. 
Was it not the wings of the angel who had come to bear to 
Heaven a soul so pure and innocent? 



EDITORIAL. 



• December 1st. — Four more new girls, and St. Mary's was 
full a month ago. Still our amiable mother stretches out her 
loving arms to receive another. "Always room for one more." 

The long looked for Thanksgiving Day has come and gone, 
and although thoughts of its festivities have given way to long- 
ings for the jollities of Christmas, still it is pleasant to think of 
the splendid dinner and the fun we had in the evening. After 
waiting for hours, — so it seemed to our impatient curiosity, — we 
were admitted to the parlor. First we were entertained by a 
series of curious, and amusing scenes in shadow pantomime. The 
"Heathen Chinee," peculiarly sensitive as to his queue, the 
"Country Doctor," extracting a tooth from his agonized patient, 
the "Amateur Portrait Painter," and "Old St. Dunstan," 
suddenly bereft of his long nose, — brought forth peal after peal 
of laughter. 

Charades came next in our programme, and so amusing were 
the impromptu scenes that we almost forgot to guess what they 
represented. Then we had games and tricks until the ten o'clock 
bell rang. 

Decembee 15th. — The sitting-room of our Lady-Principal 
has for the last month been wrapped in mystery. We gather 
from'a few daring adventurers, who saw the heads of two seam- 
stresses rising from behind mountains of gray flannel, and from 
the reports 0/ two or three of the girls who have been summoned 
there to strange interviews, that our calisthenic class will soon 
appear in a new gray uniform, resplendent with scarlet braid. 

January 1st. — The question is now, "How did you spend 
your holidays?" We have quite exhausted our adverbs of 
pleasant degree, and it seems that not one nor all together can 
half express what we would say. True, our family was sadly 



110 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

scattered — do — not sadly; for everything is glad at Christmas 
time, and we who remained at St. Mary's were the happier for 
thinking of the others in their joyous meeting with the "dear 
home folks." 

As soon as we had bidden our last departing school-mate good- 
by, we returned to our final preparations for Christmas. There 
were gifts to be finished, purchases to be made, and presents to 
be smuggled from one room to another ; then all hands were called 
to aid in the decorations. Our halls were festooned with cedar 
and holly, our Chapel was made beautiful and fragrant, and 
indeed there was hardly a spot at St. Mary's from which some 
bright Christmas token did not peep. 

The first vespers of Christmas were sung at eight o'clock on 
Saturday night. Long before light on Christmas day one might 
have heard whispering voices and mysterious rustling sounds. 
Under promise of perfect quiet, we were allowed to examine the 
queer shaped parcels piled upon our beds, and then we laid our 
sleepy heads again on our pillows, and enjoyed a good long holiday 
sleep. At breakfast we found more gifts, and heaps of beautiful 
cards, while our Lady-Principal and a favored teacher kept up 
a merry rivalry as to the number of the latter. The following 
days of Christmas passed with almost incredible swiftness, so 
deeply were we interested in some one of our many new books, 
or engrossed in the games and amusements of the season. Before 
we could realize it, New Year's eve was upon us. On this, the 
last night of the year, our Lady-Principal surprised the school 
with a feast in honor of the birthday of Jennie and Alice 
Ravenel. After drinking the health of "Our Twins" in eggnog, 
and doing justice to the spread before us, we returned to the 
parlor and amused ourselves with games and dancing until the 
clock reminded us of the New Year's speedy arrival. 
A snow storm ushered in the New Year, but 

"Neither wind, nor storm, nor snow, 
Could quench our firesides hearty glow." 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. Ill 

Then came our last holiday, Monday, and all were intent upon 
enjoying it to the utmost. The last pages of some pleasant story 
were to be hurried through, for all novels must be carried back 
to the library on Tuesday morning; and what, if on that day we 
should have to leave our hero in some great danger, or turn from 
some dark mystery yet unsolved. At intervals during the day 
w.e were roused from our very interesting occupation by the shrill 
horn, and we rushed to the door to welcome back our old friends 
whom we knew before we made the acquaintance of John Halifax, 
Guy Mannering, or Amy Edmonstone. 

At 12 o'clock the "Greeks and Trojans" met on the circle in 
dread array, to fight the old fight over again. Before the snowy 
darts and the shouts of the scarlet-arrayed Trojans the Greeks fled, 
not into their hollow ships. But both sides claim the victory. 
The vanquished carried with them Hector's "blazing" armor, 
and claim to have retreated only to attend the burial of Patro- 
clus. Perhaps we may have a more decisive battle the next time 
it snows. 

We concluded our holiday amusements with a phantom ball. 
Here gathered the ghosts of every nation, from the turbaned 
Turk to the Old Mother Goose of our childhood's days, all in 
weird measure "to trip the light fantastic toe." 

January 7th. — On the festival of the Epiphany we had full 
choral service. The music was even better than on Christmas 
day, for many of our absent voices had returned. 

At 3 o'clock all books were laid aside for the week. In the 
morning we had received an invitation to celebrate "Twelfth- 
Night" by the coronation and marriage of the "King of Folly" 
and the " Queen of Misrule." At the appointed hour we 
gathered in the parlor. At 8 o'clock a procession, led by a Jester 
in cap and bells and a band of trumpeters, marched into the par- 
lor and formed a double line. Then came the king of the even- 
ing, clad in ermine, with two very strange-looking Pages holding 
up his sweeping mantle. Marching down the aisle, he was con- 
ducted to his throne. There, after a short address from the 



112 ST. MARY'S MUSK 

Jester, and amidst loud blasts from the trumpeters, he was crowned. 
One of His Majesty's subjects then stepped forward and recited 
Tennyson's lovely little poem, "The Beggar Maid," the King in 
the meantime selecting a Queen from among the many sweet 
faces before him. 

"In robe and crown the King stepped down, 
To meet and greet her on her way; 
'It is no wonder,' said the Lords, 
' She is more beautiful than day.'" 

The King placed the crown upon the head of his kneeling 
bride, and then led her to her seat upon the throne. Two by 
twj, the herald presented their subjects, then the company were 
led by the King and Queen and attendants to the dining-room, 
where awaited them a feast in honor of the day. The most 
interesting feature of the feast was the finding of the rings baked 
in the royal cakes; and the Jester proclaimed that the two of 
His Majesty's subjects who should draw the rings should be the 
best of friends for the rest of the year. We offer our congratu- 
lations to the lucky pair, and hope the Jester's prophesy may be 
fulfilled. 

After the supper we all returned to the parlor and spent the 
rest of the evening in merry games and dances, commanded by 
His Majesty. Long live the " King of Folly" and the "Queen 
of Misrule !" 

The question is asked, " How many clubs are there in school ?" 
There are five literary clubs, two societies for mental improve- 
ment, and lunch clubs innumerable. Besides, there is our 
Missionary Society, which meets every Friday night. The 
Teachers' Literary Club meets every evening at twenty minutes 
past five. For the past month "The Fall of the Roman Empire" 
has been the piece de resistance. The class in general literature 
which has just finished reading Bryant's version of Homer's 
Iliad, meets at eight o'clock on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. 
During all the Fall we have listened to the "Winged words" of the 
gods, and seen the warrior heroes falling with their "Armor clash- 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 



113 



ing round them." Now we turn to new fields. With Plato, we 
have waited on the death of Socrates and seen the vision of Er. 
We have listened to Prometheus' defiant words, and now are 
waiting his possible release. On Wednesday night the Scott Club 
meets. Its members are now reading Kenilworth, and so 
interested are they, that they cannot wait from week to week, 
but beset their president at all hours on Saturday to call a 
meeting. The English Literature Club also meets on Wednes- 
day nights. They have just finished reading Pope's "Rape of 
the Lock," and next will begin Dryden. Last, but not least, 
the editors of the Muse meet every Friday evening in the 
sitting-room to muse on the news, and collect old news for the 
new Muse. 

While winter's heralds are stripping the trees and making the 
fields desolate, there is one little spot at St. Mary's where it is 
always spring. We have just had a peep into the Professor's 
greenhouse. Here are callas, verbenas, roses and geraniums by 
the dozen. Two large oleanders, rescued from the frost-nipped 
garden, will soon be in bloom. Besides these, there are whole 
rows of foliage plants which are to border our flower-beds next 
spring. Of all his pets, the Professor prizes most a box full of 
baby salvias, the seeds of which were sent him from his own 
garden. 



PROGRAMME. 



1. Serenade — Schubert, arr. by Liszt, 

2. Gavotte — Gluck, arr. by St. John, 

3. Tambourin — Kaff, 

4. Song — Storm and Sunshine, D. Buck, 

5. Andante — Lysberg, - . 

6. Latin Recitation— Stabat Mater, - 

7. Santa Lucia — Eosellen, 

8. Shadow-Land — D. Buck, 



Miss Mittie Doivd- 

Miss Annie Philips. 

Miss G. DeRosset. 

Miss Louise Boyd. 

Miss Kate Lord. 

Miss Emily Smedes. 

Miss Florence Slater. 

Miss Rebecca Collins. 



114 ST. MA R Y'S MUSE. 

9. English Recitation — Under the Sea, - - Miss Alice Hagood. 

10. Sonata, C Minor — Beethoven, - - Miss Kate Sutton. 

11. French Recitation — Le Meunier Sans Souci, Preparatory A. 

12. Song — The Requital, Blumenthal, - - Miss Fannie Sharp. 

13. Gavotte — Bach, arr. by W. Mason, - - Miss Sallie Young. 

14. Sarabande — Raff, ... Jfiss Lillian Roberts. 



15. Duo— Evenint 



{ 



Miss Nannie Stone. 
Dr. Kursteiner. 



We print above the programme of the Director's second Soiree, 
given on Saturday evening, December third. We would encour- 
age the musical pupils by saying that their performances were most 
creditable, and entirely in keeping with the dignity of St. Mary's. 
The music was all of a high order, and the different morceaux, 
although well known to be bristling with technical difficulties, 
were gracefully sung and admirably executed. 



CURRENT TOPICS. 



"The Mikado of Japan has proclaimed his intention of establishing a con- 
stitutional government with a representative assembly in 1890." 

Japan until 1852, had never opened her ports to any nation, 
nor even allowed a foreign idea to enter the island. Then, through 
American diplomacy, her ports were opened, and within the last 
few years she has not only received, but sought, enlightenment 
from other lands. Two years ago her commissioners were sent 
to inspect our schools, and in various ways intercourse has been 
opened between the island which borders the East and the 
countries of the West. The form of government the Mikado 
proposes to adopt is modeled not after the government of Japan's 
near neighbors, China and Hindoostan, but after those of the 
western world; for if the course of empire westward takes its 
way, it is only to send strong thoughts and helpful words back- 
ward to its older home. 



ST. MARY'S 31 USE. 115 

Within the last few years the Mikado has won the power to 
make a change in the government. The realm was formerly 
governed by a council of five of the oldest nobles, chosen by the 
Tycoon • this council was assisted by a minor one of eight mem- 
bers. But in 1869, the Mikado overthrew the power of the 
Tycoon and the feudal nobles, and established his own. 

Mutsu Hito, the present Mikado, shows great wisdom in 
promising to give to his people at a fixed date a liberal govern- 
ment, and thus preparing them for the change. Suddenly to give 
them a share in the government would intoxicate them, and the 
consequences might be as dire as the troubles that followed in 
Russia when Alexander II. freed the serfs and introduced reforms 
for which the people were not yet prepared. 

The Japanese are among the thriftiest and most industrious 
people in the world. They have innumerable factories, and some 
of these do such work as can be found nowhere else. The rich 
soil is cultivated to its utmost; the people are compelled to till 
the land, for there is a law that confiscates all ground left idle 
for a year. Japan is rich in many minerals also, especially gold 
and silver, and now that the despotic government is giving way 
to a liberal one, this country so blessed in every respect may soon 
surpass all the kingdoms of the East. 

The news from the Barbary States promises no speedy. end to 
the war between Tunis and France. It seems strange that France 
should wage so expensive a war to avenge attacks which were 
probably those of marauding bands and not of the Bey's subjects. 
Already has it spread, and many tribes are in revolt. Neither 
the submission, nor even the friendship, of the Bey can now lead to 
peace; the fight must be waged with the wild tribes, and itseems 
likely to be both long and harassing. 

It is not many years since the treasury of France was drained 
by a disastrous war. Heavy as was the blow, France has so 
recovered that to-day her credit is second to that of England 
alone Germany, who received her millions, is far poorer. 



116 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Ever since the defeat of 1870, France has been augmenting 
her military force. She has now a full treasury, and a strong 
army, and it is thought she is Only awaiting her opportunity to 
attack Germany. Her time has not yet come. Is she in the 
meanwhile drilling her troops in Tunis? Perhaps — and yet, 
more powerful reasons are necessary to account for the fact that 
the new ministry, whose record is yet to make, is vigorously 
pushing the coutest. Whatever her objective point may be, she 
seems likely to gain it; for the insurgents of Tunis, their leader, 
Ben A mar, being killed, have retreated from Kairwan to the 
coast, and several tribes have already surrendered. 

The Sublime Porte has interests in Africa and receives annually 
a large tribute from Tunis. If the latter should come under the 
power of France, Turkey will lose not only her tribute, but a 
great part of her influence in the Mediterranean. To weaken 
Turkey, is to strengthen Russia and to rouse England ; the one 
still casts longing eyes towards Constantinople, and the other has 
a road to India to protect. 

Tunis is not a land to be despised by any country; it is settled 
by a nomadic race, and civilization is at a low ebb, but the land 
is rich in many products, such as olives, tobacco and indigo; 
there are extensive fisheries on the coast, and its ports, situated 
on the Mediterranean, give unsurpassed facilities for a wide com- 
merce. The tribute is very large, and there is a considerable 
commerce with interior Africa. Should the projected railroad 
across the Desert of Sahara be built, this trade may almost equal 
that of India. 

And who can say that the now despised land may not become 
as rich and flourishing as in the famous days of Hannibal ? 

In France the Ferry Ministry has resigned and that of Gam- 
betta, which was unanimously elected, has succeeded it. There 
are twelve members in the new Cabinet, all of the advanced 
Republican party. Among these are two members of the previous 
ministry; Cochery, who has won a reputation for efficiency in 
the Department of Posts and Telegraphs; and Cazot, Minister of 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 117 

Justice. The other members of the Cabinet are Gambetta, 
Waldeck, Rousseau, Rouvier, Deves, Renault, Allain-Targe, 
Bert, Proust, Raynal and Gouyeard. Among these, Bert is a 
strong opponent of the clerical party. Many of the ministers 
are lawyers, and most of them have yet to make their political 
reputation. 

After twenty years of absence, our Southern Prima Donna 
has returned to her native country, having gained laurels in all 
of the European cities which she has visited. 

When Christine Nilsson, Mme. Gerster, Jenny Lindand other 
noted singers came to this country, they were greeted rapturously, 
but the enthusiasm which Mme. Adelina Patti has aroused far 
surpasses that awakened by any foreign singer. 

We of the South feel an especial pride in Patti, the daughter 
of the Crescent City. 

She has bound herself for the winter to an engagement with 
Mr. H. E. Abbey, who had intended asking ten or fifteen dollars 
for a seat, but finding that this was impracticable, cut the price 
down to five dollars. In England, Patti has been receiving a 
guinea a seat, and that is all that can be expected of the 
American public. 

At the concerts each lady in the audience is provided with a 
handsome bouquet. Of course it is expected that she will throw 
it to Patti ; it remains to be proved whether or not Patti will 
receive all. 

Patti has shown a lack of judgment in singing at concerts 
instead of in the grand operas, suited to her. Perhaps she wishes 
to raise the ballad in public estimation, and surely her con- 
certs are fully appreciated, for her houses are crowded. All 
she needs to make an exceedingly great furor is skilful manage- 
ment. 

We could sing her praises over and over again, but the best 
description of her is contained in three little words — she is Patti. 

Within the last few months another of our great composers 
has passed away. Franz Liszt was born in Raiding, near 



118 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Oedenberg, October 22d, 1811. At a very early age he showed 
a wonderful musical talent, and a Hungarian noble sent him to 
study at Vienna, under Karl Czerny and Salieri. Here he 
remained about eighteen months and then appeared in concerts 
in the principal cities of Germany, where he gained not only 
fame, but fortune. In 1827, on the death of his father, he gave 
himself up to gloomy meditations and religious rhapsodies; and 
when to this sorrow was added another, he almost entirely relin- 
quished his art, and did not again resume it until he was roused 
by hearing the famous violinist, Paganina. After this he worked 
hard eight years, that he might become the Paganina of the 
piano ; and on the whole he succeeded. At the end of these 
eight years the success of Thalberg led Liszt to again play in 
concerts, and from this time his course was a brilliant one. In 
1847 he became leader of the music at the Court of Weimar, and 
through his efforts Weimar took high rank among the musical 
cities of Germany. In 1865, in the Vatican, he took the vows 
of a monk. But he did not relinquish his profession; for ten 
years after, we find him Director of the Hungarian Academy. 

He was an earnest patron of genius. Several of the best 
German composers owe much to his direct efforts for them, and 
especially is this true of Wagner. 

Liszt was famous both as a performer and as a composer. 
Perhaps his efforts were rather startling than charming. His 
execution was wonderful. In him we have lost one of the best 
interpreters of Bach, Handel and Beethoven. No other modern 
musician is so eloquent as was Liszt when, forgetting himself, he 
seemed to hold communion with these mighty spirits of the past. 



.ST. MARY'S 3IUSE. . 119 



PERSONALS. 



Sallie Young, of Junior A, led the school during October 
and November. With the fourth month Mittie Dovvd came 
again to the front. The race seems now to be between Tarboro, 
of Senior B, and Hillsboro, of Senior A. Success to both com- 
petitors ! 

Our dear Mrs. Meares is happily established in her new 
mountain home. Though seeking rest and quiet, her ever-ready 
hands have found work to do, and with untiring energy she 
busies herself in deeds of Christian charity. 

The close of the Christmas holidays was saddened by the 
death of our near neighbor and beloved friend, Miss Mildred 
Cameron. It is not for us to tell the patient life and calm pass- 
ing away of this most gentle lady. The memory of her sweet 
face and words and ever-ready sympathy is a hallowed one with 
us who have passed from childhood to womanhood within the 
circle of her influence. God's peace did rest upon her ; may it 
comfort all whom she held dear. 

We have had a visit from the oldest daughter of St. Mary's, 
Mrs. Col. Ruffin, who must have been a wee mite when she first 
set foot within these walls. Imagination would paint this lady 
as a great-grand-mamma with snowy hair, in cap and spectacles. 
Reality brings us the charming matron, no older than our mothers. 
May we all be as fresh and blooming forty years from now. 

The day after Christmas we had to part with our dear friend 
and fellow-student, Maude Nelson, who has returned to her home 
in Alabama. " Tillie" has left many friends at St. Mary's, and 
the memory of good scholarship, unfailing sweet temper, and 
perfect ladyhood. 



120 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Alumnae, would you see our Margaret, our pearl, whose 
highest bliss consists in "mapen tuger"? Look for the sweetest 
baby-face upon this season's cards, and there you have her. 

Again we owe a debt of thanks to our kind friend, General 
Ransom. This time, he has sent from Washington a handsome 
addition to our library in the shape of a " Report of the United 
States Commission to the Exposition of 1879," in five volumes. 
Our art students are specially interested in their contents. 

Another of St. Mary's daughters has taken upon herself the 
responsibility of a husband. Miss Emmie Benbery (Class of '78) 
was united in matrimony to Dr. Hubert Haywood, November 
16th, 1881. The ceremony took place at Christ Church, and 
was witnessed by hosts of friends. The happy couple went North 
on their bridal tour, and at the exceedingly charming reception, 
given on their return, reported a delightful trip and brilliant 
weather. We could scarcely realize the latter part of their state- 
ment, having beeu weather bound during their absence; but, no 
doubt at such a time they saw all, even mud, eonleur de rose. 



MINUTES OF THE EDITORIAL CLUB. 



December 1, 1881. — There was a full attendance at this meet- 
ing, and important subjects were to have been discussed ; but 
things do not always happen as they should, and Seniors some- 
times wander from their good intentions. 

So it fell out that we did not accomplish much. The first part 
of the evening we spent in congratulating ourselves upon the 
appearance of the first number of the Muse. Before the close 
of the evening we heard two pieces of sad intelligence : one that 
our President has decided to wait until next year to receive her 
diploma; the other that Maud Nelson is soon to leave us for her 
home in Alabama. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 121 

Our class is reduced now to five, two having deferred their 
graduation for a year. But the club will really lose only one 
member, our gentle Maud. 

December 8, 1881. — To-night we held a long discussion upon 
some of George Eliot's characters, especially upon Gwendolen, 
in Daniel Deronda. We could not agree upon her merits or 
demerits, but why should we in an argument? Finally, when 
we were becoming very much excited on the subject, Miss 
Czarnomska appeared and put an end to the discussion by read- 
ing to us from the work in question passages illustrating both 
sides of the argument, and showing that we were both right and 
wrong. Most of us were fully convinced that Daniel Deronda 
was a wise and clever book, and Gwendolen a natural, if not a 
superior character; but the two great arguers of the class still 
retain their original and contrary opinions. 

December 16, 1881. — We could not be expected to put our 
thoughts upon serious subjects to-night. The holidays are near, 
and we are soon to go to our respective homes. Our President 
was lenient and did not compel us to engage in any composition 
work. Before we parted, she made each promise to relate, at the 
next meeting, her adventures during vacation. 

With wishes for a very merry Christmas to all, and good-byes 



to Maud, who is to leave next week, the club adjourned to the 
parlor, there to practice the carols for Christmas Day. 



BOOK NOTICES. 



A Sailor's Sweetheart. — Among the numerous papers 
upon our table we find " The Sailor's Sweetheart," by the author 
of "The Wreck of the Grosvenor." The book opens with the 
sad parting of William Lee, the hero, and Nellie, his sweetheart. 
The captain of the vessel to which he is ordered, after having 

9 



122 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

been at sea for about a month, goes crazy and hangs himself. 
The first mate then takes command of the vessel, which, after 
many storms, is wrecked. The only persons saved are the hero, 
his sweetheart, whom he had discovered among the passengers 
soon after leaving England, and three of the seamen; all of 
whom finally meet on board of a water-logged vessel. The 
remainder of the story is chiefly an account of the numerous 
dangers which they encounter, until at last, three, William Lee, 
Nellie, and one of the seamen, reach the port to which they were 
bound. The style is clear, and on the whole, very good. But 
the number of nautical expressions which the story contains 
almost amounts to slang; and however they may be prized by 
an older mind, they certainly become wearisome to a school-girl. 
For instance, after saying that the vessel was making ready to 
sail, Mr. Russell proceeds to give us the necessary orders : 

" Now, then, my lads, aft here, and sheet home this mizzen- 
top sail !" 

" Ay, ay, sir !" 

" Then, hoist away I" 

" Main-top there ! jump aloft and loose the top-gallants'l," &c. 

This, to the generality of readers who are unacquainted with 
vessels, would only be tiresome, and after reading it they would 
have no more intelligent idea of how the ship was gotten under 
way than had it been left unsaid. 

The book, however, gives us a good picture of the life of a 
sailor and the dangers and perils which constantly surround him. 
The descriptions are most life-like and interesting; they paint 
vividly the splendid sunsets on the sea and the terrible storms 
which suddenly arise in the tropical regions. As a whole, the 
work is spirited. The masterly manner in which the author 
treats the story, proves him to be a true novelist, Though the 
tale is wonderfully exciting and seems to be almost impossible, 
yet nowhere does it become quite so, and every part is well sus- 
tained. But comparing it with the " Wreck of the Grosvenor," 
we confess we are disappointed. The heroine of the latter is a 
finer character than Nellie. As brave in danger, she is always 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 123 

more unselfish. She clings to her father and serves him faith- 
fully; while Nellie, by a deliberate plan, as is shown in her con- 
duct on the eve of her sweetheart's departure, selfishly deserts 
the old uncle who loves her dearly. 

We look eagerly for the next work from the pen of Mr. Rus- 
sell, hoping that it will combine the many excellent points of 
both the " Wreck of the Grosvenor " and the " Sailor's Sweet- 
heart" 

Those among us who have read "Uarda" are looking for- 
ward with great pleasure to the perusal of George Eber's latest 
novel. The scene is laid in the Netherlands, in the sixteenth 
century. 

Miss Howard, the successful author of "One Summer," has 
published another novel, "Aunt Serena." 

We expect never to find another cup of bad coffee. Francis 
Thurber has written an interesting and instructive book on the 
delicious berry. It is called " Coffee from Plantation to Cup." 
To this are added famous recipes for good coffee, including that 
"Tli urber recipe," which is said to produce a drink fit for the 
gods. 

Among the periodicals on our desk are the December and 
January numbers of Harper's Monthly. In the December num- 
ber the article which first attracts our attention is, "How America 
was Discovered." The paper, "Among our Footprints," delights 
not only the students of natural history, who linger lovingly 
over the descriptions, but also the artists, who take great pleasure 
in the exquisite illustrations. "The Grave of William Penn/' 
" Autumn Sketches in the Pennsylvania Highlands," and several 
other articles of equal interest, add to the attractiveness of the 
December number. 

The January number opens with a very interesting article, 
"King Coal's Highway." This is followed by a paper on 
" Ancient and Modern Venetian Glass of Murano." The lat- 



124 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

ter is written by J. J. Jarves, one of the donors to the Metro- 
politan Museum. The article is interesting, not only for its clear, 
condensed history of Venetian glass in olden days and of the 
present revival of art in that famous city, but for its generous 
words about museums, and the practical suggestions for their 
foundation. The illustrations are very fine, and, added to the 
clear descriptions, take one in fancy to the beautiful building, 
where, through the writer's generosity, the originals may be 
found. The fourth paper on "Journalistic London" appears in 
this number, and Hardy's " Laodicean" is finished. 

We have had another visit from the Palladium, published 
at St. Mary's School, Knoxville, Illinois. We notice many 
things worthy of perusal, some of them very amusing. 

The November number of the North Carolina Educational 
Journal has an interesting account of the North Carolina graded 
schools. 

The Reading-room extends hearty thanks to Dr. Kiirsteiner 
for his gift of The Daily Illustrated, Graphic. The gravest 
among us laughed at the illustrations, and the present appella- 
tion for our "intimate friend" is "crank." 

The Library glories in a new edition of Scott's Novels. The 
remnants of the five other editions, which have, at different times, 
done good service, are given a lower place among the books, for 
their dimmed pages are not so attractive as these brightly bound 
volumes, bearing their graceful wreath of thistles and wheat. 
On the cover, stamped in gold, is the portrait of Sir Walter, his 
jovial face framed in golden flowers. Beneath, in large black 
letters, is written "Waverly Novels," and near by is an artistic 
monogram of E. J. Hale & Son. The print is refreshing to our 
eyes, almost put out with "Paley." 

The illustrations ! Scott's descriptions, vivid as they are, are 
made more so by their aid. In Kenilworth the frontis-piece 
attracts our attention. On a quaint old sofa, with back grounds 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 125 

of tapestry and rich hangings, sits Amy; her long train of velvet 
lies in graceful folds, and around her white swan-like neck fits 
the necklace of orient pearls. By her side is the Earl of Leicester, 
in court suit. Around his knee is fastened a richly embroidered 
band with the Diamond George for a buckle; this is the noble 
badge of the Garter which kings delight to wear. Among the 
brilliant orders on his breast is a heavily wrought collar, and 
attached to it a jewel shaped like a sheep. Amy is lifting the 
pendant with her lily fingers, and lets it rest lovingly in her 
palm, while her rosy lips part in bewitching sweetness, and we 
can almost hear her musical voice as she says: "My Lord, my 
own Liege, will you tell me what this emblem signifies, and what 
brave deed has placed it on your breast?" And in his answer 
Leicester explains the Order of the Golden Fleece. 

The picture of Whitehorse Vale is gloomy, but picturesque. 
The desert plain is broken only by the dreary rocks, and the cave 
of Wayland Smith is so dark and terrible that one wonders how 
Tressilian dared speak so boldly to its inhabitant. The sky is 
grey and lurid; no living creature can be seen except a few birds, 
and Tressilian's horse, as it stands at the door of the cave. Near 
by is Wayland Smith, with tools in hand, prepared to shoe the 
horse. The smith's face is well besmeared with soot and char- 
coal, and the ferocity of his countenance is increased by his 
neglected hair and beard; his feet are bare, a wild animal's skin 
covers his shoulders, and his "tout ensemble" accords well with 
his surroundings. 

We must glance at our old friend Ivanhoe, and as the pages 
are turned, I only peep at this picture and that, for I am looking 
specially for one. Ah ! at last it is found. In a large hall is an 
elevated platform, hung around with banners and other signs of 
the Knights Templar. In a large chair sits the Grand Master 
in majestic robes of white, bearing in his right hand the mystic 
staff. Near him, at the table, are two scribes, their black gowns 
and caps contrasting with the unsheathed swords of the stern, 
armed men who stand around. At the steps of the platform, 
in front of the Grand Master, is Rebecca, with clasped hands and 



126 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

uplifted face, whose expression speaks her innocence. By a 
window is Bois Guilbert, and even his downcast look betrays the 
love he bears Rebecca. How one's heart overflows at the sight 
of the innocent girl tried for witchcraft. 

All those who have spent pleasant hours following Di Vernon 
in her escapades, would delight in the way she is pictured at a 
meet. Her spirited horse is surrounded by hounds, and she is 
chatting to several lords in pea-jackets and hunting-boots; all 
are ready for the exciting chase. 

The frontis-piece of Guy Mannering makes one laugh heartily. 
It is a charming representation of "Mr. Pleydell's Saturday 
Night at Home." 

As volume after volume is looked through, we long to linger 
over the loved pages and attempt to describe to others the books 
and pictures which are affording so much pleasure to the 
daughters of St. Mary's. 

One day I wandered into the library to amuse myself for an 
hour or two; how, I had not decided. As my eyes ran over the 
cases, my attention was attracted by a set of books bound in red 
and gold, and entitled " Universal Knowledge." 

"Ah! wonderful books," I thought, "possessors of so much 
learning, teach an ignorant mind ! " and taking from its place a 
volume, I turned to the first page and found quite a lengthy 
account of the letter A. As I glauced down the page, wonder 
filled me that so much could be written about what at first sight 
seemed so little a thing. But as I read of its uses in the different 
languages, its derivation, and especially its uses in our mother 
tongue, I realized that there was a deal to say about the busy 
little captain of the Alphabet. Then followed a clear explana- 
tion of A, as used in music; and after that, I learned that 
surveyors of ships, in England, employed this letter to tell the 
quality, safety and age of a vessel preparing to sail. 

As I was poring over the book, I heard the horn of a hunter, 
and the ring of horses' hoofs on the frosty ground. I hastened 
to the window to catch only a glimpse of the horses and hounds 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 127 

returning from a hunt. I resumed my seat and occupation, but 
as I turned the pages, my thoughts still reverted to the hunters ; 
and I longed to be riding in the brisk air, to hear the wild bay 
of the hounds, and to feel all the glorious excitement of the chase. 
But alas! I could not. Ah, well! thought I, if I can't go I 
can see what there is about fox-hunting in this ''Universal 
Knowledge," which seems to contain everything. I remember 
reading of a meet in the " New Forest," the wood which, from the 
days of William Rufus, has been famed for its game. At this 
meet the ladies and gentlemen, in hunting costume, mounted on 
horses such as none but England can boast, were gathered on the 
heath, encircled by miles of noble trees. The air was brisk and 
frosty, and as they dashed off for the hunt, the silvery horn, the 
excited dogs, and the prancing steeds, added to the inspiring 
scene. But all this is only the outside show. O, Universal 
Knowledge, to thee I turn to gain a deeper insight into the 
famed pursuit. 

The notice of the hunt and the place for the meet is always 
posted up the day before in some public place. A pack of hounds 
consists of from twenty to sixty couples, and is managed by the 
master of the day. Ladies and gentlemen both attend the 
" meet," and when preliminaries have been arranged, the party 
separates, and all that are going to hunt ride off in advance. A 
low whine from one of the hounds, generally an old one, 
announces that they are on the track, and then the excitement 
begins. The ambition of every one is to be in at the "death," 
when the brush and paws of the fox are presented as trophies. 

This account recalled to my mind another of England's famous 
amusements — Tenis; and this suggested Lawn Tenis, which has 
supplanted croquet in merry England and bids fair to do so here. 
The smooth lawn and jaunty costume must be a pretty sight, and 
prettier than all, the gay toss of the ball and graceful curve of 
the raqnet. But as I read how scientifically it is pursued, and 
with what difficulty proficiency is obtained, my vision was dis- 
pelled, and I no longer dared hope to play it myself. There is 
nothing left, I thought, but to learn something about the rules 



128 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

of the game, as perhaps I shall never know them from expe- 
rience. So I read all the directions for tossing the ball over the 
net and the rules for " being out," and for scoring. Just as I 
was becoming very much interested in this account, I heard some 
little girls talking outside of the door. "Mamma gave me the 
prettiest fork," said one, "it had little flowers on it, and 'Etta' 
written beautifully; it is mighty pretty." Immediately games 
and England fled from my mind, and forks of all descriptions 
danced through my brain. So I turned to the page entitled 
"Forks," and soon was deeply absorbed. Very strange seemed 
their first introduction into England. It was during the reign 
of Queen Elizabeth, who preserved all she possessed as curiosi- 
ties. In the inventory of her household furniture there is : 
" Item, a forke of corall slightly garnished with golde. Item, 
a forke garnished with two lyttle rubyes, two lyttle perles pen- 
dant, and a lyttle corall." But still more strange it seemed, 
when "One divine preached against the use of forks as being an 
insult to Providence not to touch one's meat with one's fingers." 
Forks were first used in Italy, and from thence were brought 
into England by travellers. 

I was just thinking what point to look up next, when a bell 
rang, which recalled to my mind an unperformed duty. So, 
with loving adieus for my new friends, and a promise to visit 
them again, I ran away. 



ART NOTES. 



In the Art Room the China painters have been pursuing their 
pretty work with increasing success. Vases, tea-sets, plates, 
dainty cups for "after dinner" coffee, have been decorated in 
various styles. A set of plates is decorated with peacock feathers. 
Another set has on each piece a different design : here is a 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 129 

group of curious Japanese figures, and there, on sea-green, are 
graceful ferns; one beautiful plate has a cluster of nasturtiums, 
another a border of wild roses; while a third shows delicate 
sprays of pine. Then there are tea-sets painted in various 
designs; the flower pieces are among the prettiest. A cup and 
saucer display wild roses on a pale blue ground; another, grace- 
ful clusters of white violets on delicate lilac; still another is 
wreathed with shining holly thrown upon pale gray. Vases of 
various shapes and sizes are decorated with landscapes, with 
flights of birds, and with ferns, grasses, and flowers. A vase of 
neutral color bears a mass of gorgeous nasturtiums; one of darkest 
green is covered with daisies. 

The safe return of the pieces sent North for firing, was greeted 
with enthusiasm. At the inspiring cry, " The China's come ! " 
an eager group gathered round the closely packed barrel, and a 
chorus of delighted oh's and ah's arose as the fragile treasures 
came to light. Only two pieces had been broken, and the others 
were prettier than ever, their delicate colors set off by the gilt 
edge that had been added. 

Our "decorators" were very busy during the two or three 
weeks before Christmas. Under their skilful fingers numberless 
dainty devices blossomed out on silk and satin, wood and China. 
" Sachets" were undoubtedly the rage, and no wonder, for nothing- 
could be prettier than the dainty little trifles, "sweet as damask 
roses." 

We gladly avail ourselves of this opportunity to acknowledge 
the kindness of friends who have showered good wishes upon us 
in the shape of Christmas and New Year's cards. From all 
parts of the country, and even "from far across the sea," these 
bright visitors have come to us; we prize them all the more for 
their abundance, since every card is a kindly thought from a friend. 

What a curious variety of thoughts, merry, fantastic, solemn 
and beautiful, are thrown together in the heap of cards before 
us. It is a Christmas sermon, worthy of the Abbot of* Misrule. 



130 ' ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

Here are Christmas bells, swinging in an ivy-mantled tower, 
whence a solemn owl looks out with great round eyes. Next 
comes a merry troop of elves, their little red coats blown 
roughly about as they cling valiently to the wind-swept boughs 
they are decking with winter's gems. Then we acknowledge the 
smiling congratulations of a genial row of Polar bears, that wear 
the gay and festive expression they always affect — on Christmas 
cards. Here comes a green and yellow individual, bearing on 
one arm a huge and heavy hamper, and on the other, the goodly 
'weight of the Bird of Plenty ; and here is a pensive youth, 
kneeling on a basket of grapes as he fills with wine the vessels 
before him, while all around are hanging vines and piles of 
fruit. Pleasantly suggestive of Christinas good cheer are these 
last, and beautiful of course; are they not prize cards? Here 
are flowers of every season, amid which the time-honored holly 
and mistletoe bravely hold their own. Among the last are some 
of the prettiest cards, and here and there from the wealth of 
blossoms steals the fragrance of a delicate thought: from a dark, 
twisted branch, forming a cross, springs a single cluster of fair 
white flowers; "The winter thorn blossoms at Christmas." 

Now we take up the last of our col lection. It is a series of 
cards, each presenting a different page in the wonderful story of 
the Christ-Child. In the first the Virgin kneels to receive the 
high message of the Angel bearing a branch of lilies in his hand; 
and the next are angels, " Whitening through the dim," to the 
wondering shepherds; then comes the Scene in the Manger, the 
Visit of the Wise Men, and the Presentation in the Temple. 
These cards, apart from their beauty of design, have the charm 
of soft coloring; and richlv illuminated borders. 



ST. MARY'S MUSE. 131 



CHIP-BASKET. 



The following advice was recently given to our art pupils: 
"Be artists; but do not become artful. Learn not artifice; and 
above all, do not become artificial." 

Visitor to young teacher — " Well, Miss W., how do you enjoy 
the pedagogical chair?" 

Young teacher, rising hurriedly — "Oh! I beg your pardon, 
sir. I did not mean to be so selfish. Pray, take this rocker." 

[Copyrighted. 

" Man wants but little here below," 
Which means "a little more," you know. 

— Detroit Free, Press. 

Freshman — " Waiter, what time is it, please ?" Waiter — " Je 
ne sais pas Monsieur." "Oh, is it as late as that? I promised 
to be home before ten." — Columbia Spectator. 

THE SEA. 

She was rich and of high degree, 

A poor and unknown artist he. 

"Paint me," she said, "a view of the sea." 

So he painted the sea as it looked that day 

That Aphrodite arose from its spray ; 

And it broke as she gazed on its face the while, 

Into its countless dimpled smile. 

" What a poky, stupid picture !" said she, 

" I don't believe he can paint the sea !" 

Then he painted a raging, tossing sea, 
Storming with fierce and sudden shock, 
Wild cries and writhing tongues of foam, 
A towering, mighty fastness-rock ; 



132 ST. MARY'S MUSE. 

In its sides, above those leaping crests 
The thronging sea-birds built their nests. 
" What a disagreeable daub," said she, 
" Why, it isn't anything like the sea." 

Then he painted a stretch of hot, brown sand, 

And a big hotel on either hand, 

And a handsome pavilion for the band. 

Not a sign of the water could be seen, 

Except one faint little streak of green. 

" What a perfectly exquisite picture," said she ; 

" It's the very image of the sea." 

— Scribner. 



HORNER SCHOOL, 

OXFORD, N. C. 

A CLASSICAL, MATHEMATICAL, SCIENTIFIC AND ENGLISH SCHOOL, WITH 
MILITARY ORGANIZATION AND DISCIPLINE. 



PRINCIPALS : 
JAMES M. HORNER, A. M. 
JERODIE C. HORNER, A. M. 

ASSISTANT INSTRUCTORS : 
J. IRVING SALE (University of Virginia), Commant of Cadets, Latin, 

Mathematics, Natural Sciences and English Branches. 
TH. v. JASMUND, Ph. D., French, German, Geography, and 

History. 

The School has been under its present management for THIRTY YEARS